


There's No Place Like Home

by StellaLuna365



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Alex Rider Needs a Hug, Alex Rider has PTSD, Alex Rider is a Mess, Alex Rider is a capable human being, Alex Rider is a precious child who is to be protected at all costs, BAMF Alex Rider, BAMF K-Unit, BAMF L-Unit, BAMF Sergeant, Everyone is BAMF, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Mrs. Jones sucks, Protective K-Unit, Protective L-Unit, Scorpia sucks, Slow Burn, TW for Suicide Attempt (kind of?), Tom Harris is a Precious Child who is to be protected at all costs, Tom is the Best Bro, look up slow burn in the dictionary and this story will be there, really slow burn, tw for depression, tw for suicidal ideations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 210,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24212125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellaLuna365/pseuds/StellaLuna365
Summary: One more death shatters the normalcy of the Pleasures' kindness in California. Alex Rider is sick of people dying because of him, so he does the only thing he can...he becomes someone else.19-year-old Matthew Smith successfully passes Selection for the British SAS and joins L-Unit, but not everyone seems to appreciate his company...at first. Maybe these people he swore he wouldn't get close to will become the family he needs...unless his enemies are closer than he thinks.Includes K-Unit and Original Characters in L-Unit--K-Unit will appear around Chapter 16 or so (that's a ballpark) but I plan for this to be VERY long, so they're a very integral part of the story!This has received a lot of positive feedback on another site, so I hope you'll give it a try :) thank you!
Relationships: Alex Rider & Bear (OC), Alex Rider & Everyone, Alex Rider & Lion (OC), Alex Rider & Original Male Character(s), Alex Rider & Snake, Alex Rider & Tiger (OC), Alex Rider & Wolf, Ben "Fox" Daniels & Alex Rider, Eagle & Alex Rider, Tom Harris & Alex Rider
Comments: 413
Kudos: 511





	1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

“Sabina,” Alex called from downstairs. “Where’s your maths homework? I can’t figure out number six.”

Sabina sighed, a small smile gracing her lips. “In my bag. I’ll bring it down in a minute.”

Sabina folded the last of her t-shirts and tucked them in her drawer, glancing out the window. The April sun was bright in California, bathing everything in a light, golden hue. The green stretched outside her bedroom window, broken only by the neighbor’s house. Their garden in the backyard had all kinds of colors; her mother and she had made it their project when they first purchased the house.

She grabbed her bag and her purse, jogging down the stairs to where Alex was on the couch, scribbling furiously, intense concentration cloaking his face. To anyone else, he would look like a normal boy, doing normal schoolwork, with normal problems.

Sabina knew.

She could see the dark bags under his eyes, even when he tried to convince her he was fine. She could see the distinct worry lines in his forehead and around his eyes, the lines other people often mistook as laugh lines. The irony sometimes made her smile wryly.

Nevertheless, he was doing much better. She remembered the hollow shell he’d been when her father had first brought him home after Egypt. He’d been…lifeless, dark. He remembered a time when he’d been smiling, content, and the boy in front of her had been his…exact opposite.

But she’d done everything she could. She’d forced him to come to clubs with her afterschool, until he finally decided to join the football— _soccer_ , she mentally corrected herself—team. He’d joined late, though, and wouldn’t be able to participate until next season—his _sophomore_ year. She was still trying to perfect all the American terms.

Her parents had been wonderful, as well. They’d included him in every family outing they’d had, even when he’d been reluctant. They’d treated him as their own, giving him all the love and affection his parents had never been around to give. She hadn’t known Ian, but he seemed to be absent a lot. And Jack…

She blinked, wishing the memory away. Jack had been good to him. What happened to her…

She shook her head, fishing out her maths—no, just math—homework and let it flutter down in front of him. “Here you are, slacker.”

He looked up at her, his brown eyes so much older than they should be, and gave her a small smile. “Thanks, Sab.”

She ruffled his hair affectionately. “I’m going to meet Melissa and Hanna at the strip mall. You know you’re welcome to come?”

But he was already absorbed in his homework. “It’s all right, thanks. I’ve got a couple papers due this week.” After a moment, he said, “You still remember those self-defense techniques I taught you? And you’ve got your phone?”

Sabina sighed. She knew he was just looking out for her, but sometimes, she confused him with her mother. “Yes, and yes.” She knelt by the couch, taking his hand, staring into his eyes. “Alex. You’re safe. You’re safe here, I’m safe here, Mum and Dad are safe here. I promise you, I’m going to be home, safe and sound, in just a few hours, just like I have been every other time before now.” She gave him a smile, kissing his cheek and standing. “When I’m back, we can see what’s on the tellie, yeah?”

He blinked and looked away, pain clouding his eyes for a short moment, before he returned the smile, looking tired. “Sure. Just…be careful, yeah?”

“I will,” Sabina promised. “I’ll be home in a few hours. Mum and Dad should be at dinner all night, so you’ll be by yourself…call me if you need _anything_ , okay?”

He sometimes had bad days. Days where he’d lapse into a flashback, forget where he was, who he was with. He’d see people from…his missions, she supposed, and…sometimes it would get bad. He needed someone to pull him out of them. He sometimes had a few seconds to feel an episode coming on. She knew he’d call her if he needed to, and she could rush home and help him.

It was hard, but she regretted none of it.

She left the house with one last backwards smile, closing the door to one last sight of Alex’s small, worried smile.

If she’d known then it would be the last time she ever saw him, she would’ve stayed. In a heartbeat.

But she didn’t.

She didn’t know, that ten minutes after leaving her house, closing the door on her adopted younger brother, one of his old enemies would be waiting for her.

She didn’t know that he would be positioned across the street, on top of a six-story building, watching her through his sophisticated scope, keeping track of her every movement.

She didn’t know that he loaded his sniper rifle when she stopped at the stoplight, texting Melissa, telling her she was five minutes away.

She didn’t know when he took aim.

And she definitely didn’t know when the bullet pierced her skull, right between her eyes.

She felt nothing.

She didn’t even have time to regret promising Alex that she’d come home, because she never did.

…

The moment the doorbell rang, my stomach plummeted.

It had been an hour since Sabina had left. It wouldn’t be her. She was safe at the mall, with her friends. Edward and Liz were still at dinner. They wouldn’t be home until late.

The Macbeth essay, half done, lay forgotten as the doorbell rang again.

_Stupid_ , I thought, shaking my head. For heaven’s sake, it was probably the postman, or a neighbor, or a solicitor. Not every visitor had to have a sinister intention.

As I took silent steps towards the door, I tried to convince myself of these things. Stopping at the dresser, I opened the middle drawer, popped the false bottom, and slipped the silver Glock 32 into my waistband.

Taking a deep breath, dropping my stance a bit so I was ready for a fight, I opened the door.

Two men in uniform stood there.

I knew the looks on their faces.

_“…a car accident…called the ambulance…intensive care…nothing anyone could do…so sorry.”_

The words of the officers that relayed my uncle’s death to…to—to Ja—

_Stop_.

The words rang in my ears even as the officers started speaking.

“Is this the home of Sabina Pleasure?”

My gut _dropped_.

“I’m going to level with you,” I said, hating how stoic my voice was, hating that my face was expressionless. “I knew it was bad news when I saw you. Just…tell me what happened. I’m her adopted brother, Alex. Edward and Liz aren’t home. Just…please.”

The officers weren’t surprised. They looked sorrowful. Tired.

I knew the feeling well.

“Can we come in?” The other officer said, looking uncomfortable.

“Please,” I said, my heart beating a thousand miles a minute.

Once they were seated, I sat as well, watching, waiting.

I knew.

“From what we can gather—”

I knew from the moment the doorbell rang.

“—sniped from a short distance—”

No. That’s wrong. I knew from the moment I stepped foot into this house.

“—shot in the head—”

I knew it was too good to be true. I knew it wouldn’t last.

“—trying to cross the street. I’m so sorry for your loss, Alex.”

“Crossing the street,” I repeated numbly, the loss of Sabina—beautiful, wonderful, kind Sabina—still an illusion for now. Still not real. Still not possible. “Sniped. Crossing the street.”

A coincidence.

Someone, an enemy of mine, surely, but not SCO—no. Not them. They were dead. I’d seen to it.

It was a coincidence.

“Yes,” the officer said, the two of them glancing at each other with identical looks of sympathy and concern.

“What are your leads?” I asked, emotions tucked away in a small box in the corner of my mind, sealed with padlock after padlock. “Age, race, ethnicity. Anything. Prints from the roof. Has forensics—”

“Actually,” the other officer stopped me, looking reluctantly impressed, “the guy turned himself in.”

I blinked. “He what?”

“Walked into the precinct with his weapon in a bag, told us the crime scene, where he took the shot, everything. After that, he didn’t say much, but he told us to give a message to the family.”

No.

A coincidence.

It’s not—it _can’t_ —

“What was the message?” I asked, a slight tremor disrupting my otherwise emotionless voice.

“Well,” one of them said, shifting in his seat. “We should probably wait for your adoptive parents to get back. Are you a minor?”

“Yes,” I said impatiently. “But you need to tell me that message. I…please. Sabina is my…was…my…just, please.”

_Was_. _Was, just like Mum was, Dad was, Ian was, Yassen was, Ja—_

_STOP_.

The officers looked at each other and sighed. “Well, I suppose you’ll hear it eventually,” he said, fishing a piece of paper out of his pocket and handing it to me. “It’s all there.”

Fingers trembling slightly, I unfolded the crinkled stationary.

_To the family of Sabina Pleasure—_

_Such a waste of a bright young life. A true shame. Though, I suppose we all know who the real killer is, and it isn’t me. I may have pulled the trigger, but who handed me the gun?_

_Poor Sabina. We learned from our mistakes—went for the head instead of the heart. A couple inches of concrete couldn’t save her, could it?_

_We never forgive. We never forget._

…

The officers stayed.

I called Edward and Liz. I couldn’t bear telling them over the phone, so when they got home, I simply gestured to the officers and sat, head hanging low, as the same story filled my ears.

Liz collapsed.

Edward sobbed.

The officers gave their final condolences, handing them the handwritten note I’d already memorized, and through their tears, they read, and they understood.

I kept my head down, looking at the carpet, as they looked at me.

“Alex…” Edward’s voice was a myriad of emotions.

However thickly disguised it was by the grief and anguish and sorrow and guilt, and even sympathy, there was an undeniable serving of blame.

The officers left with the promise to return for a proper debriefing when the family had put their affairs in order, as well as a card to the police department coroner’s office. Liz stayed on the floor, Edward kneeling beside her, taking in their loss, trying to understand the tragedy, the impossibility.

I took a moment to look at them, the people who’d cared for me over these past few months like I was their own, the people I’d unwillingly come to think of as family. I looked at the sofa where Sabina and I had caught up on all of her favorite American shows. I looked at her things strewn around—a book here, a jacket there, and imagined the hell that Liz or Edward would go through when they picked them up again.

I looked at the photo on the mantle. Saint Patrick’s Day—all of us were in something green, standing amid the bustling festival hosted by the neighborhood. Sabina had her head resting on my shoulder, her arm around my waist, her other arm around Liz. Liz, in turn, leaned into Edward. Sabina smiled gently at the camera, her eyes alight.

It was the first time since _Ja—_ her that I’d been truly happy, and it showed in my smile.

“Alex,” Liz said, her voice dead. Her makeup streaked face turned on me, eyes full of…not hatred, not blame, but…something close. “Is this…was this…”

A few seconds of silence, and then I stood.

“I’ll be out by morning.”

They didn’t stop me.

When morning came, I was gone, as was the Saint Patrick’s Day picture from the mantle.

…

** Three Days Later **

Edward Pleasure straightened his tie in the mirror, eyes wide, bloodshot, with dark half-moons accentuating his pale, sunken face.

Today was the day of the funeral.

His sweet Sabina—his sweet, beautiful little girl—gone.

It would be closed casket. Her head had been nearly blown off.

His wife was in the shower, where she’d been for forty-five minutes. He knew she was probably sobbing again, but he also knew that his going to her would only make it worse.

Alex had been gone the morning after. In fact, everything he’d owned when he’d come here had been gone—like he was never there.

On some level, he felt guilty. He knew it wasn’t Alex’s fault. He knew that. He was only a boy, after all. This was the fault of a sadistic man with ties to Alex’s past, but…he hadn’t meant for this to happen.

But as he thought of his daughter’s mangled body, he couldn’t help the anger the simmered underneath the numbness.

A knock on the door shook him, and he blinked furiously, his sallow reflection staring glumly back at him. He slunk to the door, opening it, expecting anyone but the person he saw.

“Mrs. Jones?” He asked, his voice flat.

She gave him a small, flat smile of her own. “Hello, Mr. Pleasure. I’m so sorry about Sabina—you and your wife have my complete condolences. I’m sorry for popping by so suddenly, but I’d like to speak with Alex, if he’s…up to it.”

“Alex left,” he said, turning away from her, leaving the door open. She stepped in, closing it behind her. “The morning after it happened, he and all his things were gone. As well as a picture from the mantle, with all of us.” He’d noticed. A small part of him had been indignant, the irrational, angry part of him, desperately searching for someone to blame.

The better part of him had been relieved.

She blinked, which, Edward thought wryly, was probably the most surprised she’d ever looked. “I see. Did he give any indication as to where he was going?”

“No,” he sighed, sitting in the armchair. “If you don’t mind, Mrs. Jones, the funeral is today. I…my wife and I have…a few more pressing matters.”

Looking properly chastised, which Edward was sure was all part of her act, she nodded. “Of course. I’ll leave you. I’m sorry for surprising you, and…I truly am sorry about your daughter, Mr. Pleasure.”

He simply nodded.

Mrs. Jones let herself out.

Edward cried.

…

** Six Months Later **

“Attention!” The Sargent yelled, voice booming over the expanse of grass used for training at the Brecon Beacons, a covert SAS camp in Wales. The soldiers stood, mud caking their boots as they stared straight ahead, backs straight as pins.

After a few seconds, the Sargent shouted, “At ease, men.” As one, the soldiers assumed their at ease positions. “I’d like to introduce you to the only three rookies to pass Selection this year—I’ll be assigning them units later, so pay attention.”

The three new SAS members stood at attention, facing their peers.

“Travis Oliver.”

Travis Oliver was twenty-six years old. He had brown hair and the green, tell-tale eyes of a troublemaker. He was tall and thin, but he had the muscle required to pass Selection. He’d graduated from Cambridge with degrees in French, Spanish, and Japanese, and was going to be a unit’s new communications specialist. He had two sisters, a niece, and two supportive parents.

“James Kimberly.”

James Kimberly was a stout man with red hair and pale skin, thirty-two years old, and was a widower. He’d lost his wife six years ago and had never been able to settle back down, so he’d joined the SAS. He was a stoic, polite, professional man, who’d completed Med School just before his wife had passed. He was going to be another unit’s new medic.

“Matthew Smith.”

Matthew Smith was a young man with black hair and brown eyes. He was nineteen years old. He had forgone college in favor of physical training for Selection, but had passed his GCSEs. He was sharp, intelligent, athletic, lithe, and very quiet. He was small for his age, but quick on his feet, fluent in six languages, and observant beyond his years. He also had the shooting skills of a veteran three times his age. He had no family to speak of. He was going to be a unit’s new sharpshooter and weapons expert.

“Congratulations, Oliver, Kimberly, Smith,” the Sargent grinned, staring at his new recruits, “and welcome to Hell.”


	2. Chapter 2

My first official day in Brecon Beacons was—dare I say it—relaxing.

I hadn’t been assigned a unit yet, so the Sargent gave me the day off, told me to familiarize myself with the camp, but there was no need. I remembered most of the layout from my ten days in training before Stormbreaker. My things were in my duffle, stored securely in the Selection Candidate Barracks until further notice.

I was sitting on the edge of the spacious lake, staring out over the water, the setting sun reflecting over the rippling surface.

After I’d fled the Pleasures’, I’d disappeared. I wouldn’t allow MI6 to find me—I wouldn’t survive if they threw me back into missions like I’d done before. I’d used some old contacts from my MI6 days—Smithers included—and had some documents forged to make me eligible for SAS service. They forged a completely new birth certificate, a GCSEs certificate, crafted recommendation letters, even set up fake Facebook accounts for a tragically deceased sister and her husband, as well as inventing new parents. I was now nineteen-year-old Matthew Smith.

I sighed, running a hand through my dyed hair. I’d given it serious thought. I could settle down, get a normal job in some foreign country, and the risk of MI6 finding me would have been much, much lower. Hell, even my enemies would have a harder time finding me. I could’ve waited tables, sold train tickets, anything.

But I realized I would’ve gone crazy. As much as I hated MI6, hated the things I’d seen and done for them, what I’d become for them, the…adrenaline, the rush of danger…I’d become a junkie. Like someone who took a hit of narcotics and couldn’t stop running back. I’d drive myself mad, doing some mundane task day after day after day.

That’s what I told myself, anyhow.

The guilt still ate at me. MI6 had destroyed me. Destroyed my family, every single one of them. However, when I thought of the missions…

I’d saved millions of people.

And I felt guilty for running, when millions more may die because I wasn’t there.

I shook my head, angry. I was being egotistical. I couldn’t save everyone, no matter who I was. Sixteen-year-old superspy be damned, I couldn’t save everyone.

So, my compromise was the SAS. I’d still be…helping. Saving people.

And…my memories with K-Unit were bitter, but…MI6 had left me to rot so many times. And in the short time I’d been with the SAS, I’d seen teamwork, and trust, and camaraderie. I’d seen brotherhood, and friendship.

And no matter how many people had died in my life, I was only human. I wanted a family. But I knew it couldn’t last. After all, everything I’d done to get into this camp was a lie.

But no matter what I’d seen, what I’d done, I was sixteen. I was damaged. And I wanted someone, anyone, to rely on.

So, I became Matthew Smith. I’d scripted the character. He was a wallflower. He preferred to watch, but he had a sense of humor. He was intelligent, but not cocky. And he didn’t take anything lying down.

I’d been selfish and based him off of myself. I couldn’t…let myself go, I guess. I needed to preserve who I was, if only for what was left of my sanity.

“Matthew, right?” A voice said behind me. It hadn’t surprised me, and he noticed. I turned, standing, coming face to face with Travis. He was much taller than me, but he had an easy smile and air of mischief.

“That’s me,” I said, sticking my hand out. “Travis, right? Communications.”

“Yeah,” he said, giving me a firm handshake. “Shit, man, you are just a kid.”

I shrugged. “I guess I’m young. Wasn’t cut out for uni.”

“Well, congratulations on passing Selection,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Sargent wants to see you; Kimberly—I guess Hawk, now—and I already have units. I’m Owl now, S-Unit.”

“Thanks,” I said, leaving him and heading towards the Sargent’s office. “And congratulations.”

I’d been nervous that the Sargent would recognize me, but I’d changed a good bit since my time here, and I’d dyed my hair black. Hopefully, it would be enough.

I knocked on his door, entering at the brusque reply from the other side. I walked in, taking in the room in an instant. Three men were standing off to the side in relaxed positions, curious looks on their faces. The Sargent was seated behind his desk, arms crossed over his chest.

“At ease!”

I snapped into position, feet spread, shoulders relaxed, hands clasped behind my back.

“L-Unit, this is your new sharpshooter and weapons consult, Matthew Smith.” The Sargent looked at me, eyes thoughtful. “Normally he’d be too young to be sharpshooter, but his skills and knowledge are impressive. Matthew, your new name is Jaguar, understand?”

I nodded once, a small smile gracing my features. Jaguar. I liked it. I felt like…it suited both me and Matthew.

“This is your new unit, L-Unit. Men, introduce yourselves.”

“I’m the unit leader, Lion,” the first man said, and boy, did he look it. He stood at least half a foot taller than me, probably more, with broad shoulders and a muscular frame. His hair was cut short and his eyes were sharp and clever, but I could tell he wasn’t a stick in the mud. He looked to be in his mid to late twenties. We shook hands; he had a strong grip.

“Communications specialist, Tiger,” the next man said. He was short. Not shorter than me, but he probably only had a few inches on me. He wasn’t nearly as muscular as Lion, but he was lithe and lean, probably agile and quick, like me. Though he was communications, you could tell he didn’t speak much. He was a little younger than Lion, probably closer to mid-twenties. He looked intelligent as well. I’d have to be careful; they all seemed fairly observant.

“I’m Bear, I’m the medic,” the remaining man said with a grin. When I pictured the code-name “Bear,” I pictured some huge, hulking man with a scowl and an aggressive attitude, but this man was the _exact_ opposite. Already he was bouncing on his toes, full of energy and excitement, grinning like a maniac. He looked closest to me in age—early twenties, no older than twenty-four, if that. He didn’t look particularly book smart, but I knew better than anyone that appearances could be deceiving. He must’ve been intelligent, to be a medic.

“I guess I’m Jaguar,” I said, giving them a loose smile and relaxing my posture, trying to make myself look non-threatening. “Sharpshooter, weapons expert.”

“So, how old are you, exactly?” Tiger asked, his expression curious, stance agitated.

“Nineteen,” I said, voice emotionless.

“Sergeant, you gave us the baby,” Lion complained, but I could tell, at least from him, that it was good-natured. Tiger, not so much.

He growled, much like a tiger might, and said, “Sharpshooter? He’s going to shoot his damn eye out.”

Bear seemed to be a bit apprehensive, obviously used to Tiger’s stand-offish behavior. Lion, being leader, tried to smooth things over, settling a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Tiger, he’s new. You haven’t seen him in action yet. Let’s be optimistic, yeah?”

Tiger folded his arms.

I turned to the Sergeant. Matthew Smith—and consequently Alex Rider—didn’t take anything lying down. “I’d like to thank you, sir,” I said, looking him dead in the eye, showing him that I was serious.

The Sargent blinked, seemingly surprised, and eyed me suspiciously. “For what, Jaguar?”

I allowed the tiniest, _tiniest_ smirk to come over my features as I eyed my new unit mates. “For not codenaming me ‘Dorothy.’”

For a moment, no one spoke. Then Bear _collapsed_ in laughter.

“Lions, Tigers, and Bears,” he breathed, almost choking. “Oh, God, we never even realized it, mates. We’re a regular Oz reunion, aren’t we?”

Lion had an amused look on his face, but he wasn’t quite laughing. I could tell Tiger was going to be the one to win over, because he was _less_ than amused. In fact, he looked downright _unimpressed_.

The Sargent, who was trying very hard to remain expressionless had the smallest smile on his lips. “All of you, get out of my office. You’re raising my blood pressure.”

We filed out, Lion supporting a still-cackling Bear, and Lion said, “Do you want to grab your things? I reckon they’re still in the Selection barracks.”

“Yeah, I’ll get them,” I said, turning. “Where’s the L-Unit cabin?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll send Bear to meet you at the mess when he’s calmed down some,” Lion replied, shoving his two unit mates ahead of him. “We’ll do proper introductions tonight, yeah, kid?”

For the time being, I ignored being called “kid” and nodded, a tendril of nervousness worming its way through my stoicism at the thought of really getting to know my unit.

…

“—going to get someone killed,” Tiger’s voice filtered through the thin door as I stopped abruptly, heavy duffle slung over my shoulder as Bear and I stood there. “He’s an inexperienced kid. He needs to be put in a new unit. He’s nowhere near ready for active duty.”

“C’mon, give him a shot,” Lion said, sounding a bit exasperated. “Yeah, he’s new, but the Sargent wouldn’t have put him with us if he wasn’t skilled. We’ll evaluate him tomorrow, alright?”

Bear gave me a sympathetic look and shoved the door open. “We’re back!”

Tiger and Lion both looked at us, and Tiger looked quickly away, reading a book in his bed, the top bunk on the right. The title, I noticed, was in Russian. As expected of a communications expert, I supposed.

“Jaguar, you can have bottom bunk on the left,” Lion said with a smile. “It’s the only one unoccupied.”

“Thanks.” I set my bag down, kicking it under the bed, and sat down to peel off my mud caked books. Weather in Wales truly was a nightmare.

“So, tell us about yourself,” Bear said, sitting cross-legged on his bunk. He was underneath Tiger. Lion chose to sit in one of the chairs in the room, so he could see me.

I gave a slight chuckle, running a hand through my hair to get it out of my eyes. I knew it wasn’t regulation, but no one had said anything so far, so I hadn’t cut it—another part of my old self I wanted to keep. “Not much to tell, really,” I said, leaning against the wall. “What do you want to know?”

“What made you want to join the SAS?” Lion asked.

Oh. A tough question. “Well, I didn’t have a lot of options, and I wanted to serve my country in some way. I wasn’t cut out for regular military, so SAS seemed like my best option.” Not a lie, exactly.

“What’s your family like?” Bear asked, leaning forwards expectantly. “Got a girlfriend back home?”

“No girlfriend,” I said with a wry smile.

“Well, then what about family?”

“Nothing special.”

My tone must have warned them off the subject, because it didn’t come up again.

Mostly, it was just Lion and Bear asking me questions about myself. Matthew answered some, and Alex answered others. Tiger continued to read, but after he’d been on the same page for ten minutes, I knew he was listening.

“Any issues I should know about?” Bear asked, suddenly growing a bit more serious. “As medic, I mean. If you’ve got any medical conditions, I need to know in case you get hurt.”

Oh, my. How to answer.

“Well,” I said slowly, looking away from him. “I sometimes take painkillers for an old injury, but I don’t think it’s anything to worry about.”

This was in reference to my snipe wound. It had been over a year, but it had left me with a constant ache in the scar tissue, since it had healed improperly. My escapade during my time in the hospital—the one with the burning building and the improvised tightrope—had seen to that. It had also left me with a minor heart condition which left me with a lower-than-average blood pressure, and made me more sensitive to trauma around my heart.

“Mind if I examine it later?” He said nonchalantly. Obviously it wasn’t a big deal to him. It was to me.

“Yes, actually,” I said, pretending to be embarrassed. It was a reaction Matthew would have. On the inside, though, as Alex, I was terrified. I had scars littering every part of my body. I didn’t want them to see that. “If it’s alright, I’d…rather keep it to myself.”

Bear blinked. “Oh. Well, I suppose, then. Just…what’s it affect, if you don’t mind my asking?”

I guess I could answer that. “It’s a heart condition.”

“Got it,” he said, and let the matter drop.

I didn’t fail to notice Tiger’s piercing eyes.

“So,” Lion said, resuming the Q&A session. “You’re a weapons expert, eh?”

“Yeah.”

“Know a lot about guns?”

I smirked. “You could say that.”

“Any other talents?” Tiger asked, a slight sneer in his voice. “Speak anything besides English? Any training in hand-to-hand? Basic field medicine?”

“Tiger, don’t—” Lion began to chastise, but I interrupted him.

“I’m fluent in six languages, including English, and I can get by in a few others.”

A second of silence, and then Bear laughed. He saw my expression and stopped abruptly, saying, “Oh, bloody hell, you’re serious.”

“What languages, then?” Tiger asked, his expression challenging.

“English, Spanish, French, Russian, Japanese, Italian.”

“You expect me to believe that?” He asked in Russian, his accent flawless.

“I do, actually,” I responded in Japanese. “I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”

His brow furrowed. “So, we got the boy genius, huh?” He scoffed.

“What about martial arts?” Lion asked, looking confused at the conversation we’d just had. I guess he didn’t speak either language.

“Black belt in tae kwon do, and first dan in karate,” I said. “I was a well-rounded child, I suppose.”

“I’ll have to test that tomorrow,” Lion grinned. “We’ve got your evaluation. I’m a black belt in Brazilian Jiu jitsu, so we’ll see how we match up.”

I smiled in his direction. “Looking forward to it.”

“So, any field medicine knowledge?” Bear asked.

I held my hands up, and embarrassed expression flicking across my face. “You’ve got me. Nothing there.”

“Well, thank God for small miracles,” Tiger huffed, going back to his book.

Yeah, I thought. Tiger was _definitely_ the one to win over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment / Kudos if you want!


	3. Chapter 3

The food was just as bad as I remembered.

It was brown-grey slop that made a distinctly wet sucking noise as it plopped on the (questionably clean) tray. The menu said that it was casserole, but I had a hard time believing it.

Lion made me sit with them. Tiger picked at his food and wasn’t overly impressed with anything I said, but I didn’t really expect anything more. I didn’t care much if he liked me—if any of them liked me, really—I just needed a place to hide until I turned eighteen.

Then, I’d disappear, and I’d be nothing more than a bad memory.

The three of them talked mostly among themselves—well, Tiger listened more than anything—but Lion and Bear tried to include me in the conversation. I answered when asked something and nodded and laughed at the appropriate times, feeling myself easily slip back into the role of actor and observer. If I was being honest, it scared me how easy it was.

When we finished, Lion led us to a familiar part of camp—the assault course. I remembered this monster, and I had no interest in running it again.

“Alright, Jaguar,” Lion said, arms crossed. “This is the assault course. It’s ¾ of a kilometer long and includes a mud pit, 4-foot hurdles, a climbing wall, and a few other bells and whistles. You have five minutes to examine the course, then you’re starting.”

I nodded and got to work, walking slowly along the length of the course, picking out the spots that had given me trouble before. My time had been almost 25 minutes when I’d first run it. All in all, that wasn’t a very good time, but I’d been two years younger and inexperienced.

I made my way back to the starting line. Five minutes hadn’t been near enough time to examine the whole course, but I remembered enough.

Tiger and Bear stood off to the side, watching silently as I shook out my arms, readying myself for the course. Lion held a timer in his hand, his affable persona replaced with a leader evaluating his newest recruit.

A half-smile formed at the thought. If only they knew.

“Go,” Lion said suddenly, and before he’d finished the word, I was off. With a quick burst of speed, I used my start to run up the sloped wall (like half of a skateboard pipe) about ten-feet tall. Instead of hoisting myself over the top and climbing, I propelled myself forward with the momentum I already had, feeling the familiar burst of adrenaline and anticipation burning through my veins.

I slid down the opposite side and continued running, climbing the bare rope with ease and swinging myself across the monkey bars. I landed running and continued down the course, my senses working overtime to keep me balanced and to keep my momentum moving.

My chest ached over my heart, but the familiar pain was in the skin of the scar tissue and not the heart muscle, so I paid it no mind.

Time lost meaning to me; it was just one obstacle after the next, and before I really knew it, I was done.

I panted, hands on my knees, exhilaration bringing the smallest smile to my face. _That_ had been a rush.

Someone whistled in appreciation, and I looked up through my sweat soaked bangs to see the three SAS men standing by the finish line. Lion had been the one to whistle, and he waved the timer. “Damn, kid, that’s a great time for your first run. What’re they feeding you?”

I huffed a laugh, out of breath from the break-neck pace I’d kept. “Trade secret.”

I glanced over at Bear and Tiger. Bear was grinning and shaking his head in what I assumed was disbelief, muttering to himself and scanning the course in surprise. Tiger…looked reluctantly impressed. He caught my eye and scoffed, looking away.

Well. There goes that, then.

“Well, if the rest of the day is anything like that, I think you’ll fit in just fine,” Lion said, swinging an arm around my shoulders. “Let’s get you to the infirmary, hm? We’ll evaluate your field medicine experience.”

Despite still being out of breath, feeling Tiger’s eyes drill holes in the back of my skull, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride.

…

I didn’t think Tiger’s opinion of me was improving.

Not that it made much of a difference. I could work perfectly well with people who didn’t like me, but it made it much easier when they did.

I’d had to patch myself up so many times that field medicine was just a more refined version of what I’d already learned. I didn’t know what to do with much of what was in the standard kit, but once I figured it out, the actual patching-up was easy.

“You sure you haven’t done this before?” The instructor asked, observing the neat row of stitches I’d just sewn into the dummy. “You forgot to sterilize the needle first, but the stitches themselves are quite good. I’m having a hard time believing they’re from a beginner.”

I shrugged and let a smirk slip. “What can I say? Did a lot of sewing as a kid. Typically cloth doesn’t need sterilized needles.” Or kids patching themselves up in their bathtub forgot to sterilize them.

That earned a couple chuckles.

“Well, just brush up on the process for disinfecting and sterilizing everything, and you’ll be fine,” the instructor said as she packed up her supplies, handing me a pamphlet. “There’s an optional lecture in the mess next Tuesday on the basics, if you’d like to come.”

I put the pamphlet in my pants pocket, nodding in thanks. “I’ll try to. Thank you.”

Next was hand-to-hand. The training facility was a large warehouse with metal walls that reverberated every sound you made. There were mats laid out over the left half of the floor, while the right half of the warehouse held several weight machines, pullup bars, medicine balls, and other strength training equipment.

Lion started taking off his outerwear, shedding his jacket, shoes, and socks. I did the same. “I don’t want to have an all-out fight,” Lion said, swinging himself into what looked like a boxing ring, about two feet off the ground. “I just want to do some light sparring to assess what you’re capable of.”

I nodded, sharpening my mind, focusing in on the world around me. I had a bad habit of slipping into survival mode because—well, in most of my hand to hand fights, I was trying to stay alive.

But this was friendly competition. A small matchup between the two of us, and neither of us had any intention of hurting the other beyond maybe a couple light bruises.

I swung myself into the ring and waited.

Lion smirked. “Smart kid, not making the first move.”

I grinned, zeroing in on the slight shift of his stance. “I’ve been told I’ve got a knack for reading my opponent, and you don’t look like the kind of guy to strike first, either.”

“Well,” he said, adjusting his weight, leaning back on his heels, “I’ll make an exception.”

He lunged, his right fist coming towards my left shoulder. I swiveled on one foot, out of the way of his strike, and pivoted my body completely around, my left leg coming towards his left temple as my body dipped low to the ground and I spun. Lion ducked low and grabbed my thigh, using it to twist my body so my back was parallel to the ground.

I overcompensated for his spin and turned completely around, my other heel striking his temple. He let me go and backed up, stunned, and I hit the mat on my back, already swinging myself around and onto my feet, my eyes never leaving him.

My hands were shaking.

_Just a practice. Just a practice_.

Lion lunged again, his expression neutral, professional. I ducked under his swing and grabbed him around his chest, just under his arms. I was a good bit smaller than him, so the move wasn’t perfect, but it worked well enough, and I threw him onto the mat. He expected it, though, and hooked his feet around one of my ankles.

I went down and already started to somersault to my feet, but he lunged and grabbed my wrist, hooking a leg over my chest in line with my collarbone, and he locked my arm against him, the joint pulling uncomfortably. In a real fight, he would’ve gone for my neck, and I would be suffocating.

_Just a practice_.

“You wanna yield?” Lion panted, and I could feel the sweat beading on my face. Maybe yielding would be a good idea. I didn’t know how much longer I could keep my composure.

“Hell no,” I said despite myself, exhilaration burning in my lungs. He was definitely strong and well-built, but I’d learned too many field tricks for a move like that to keep me down long.

Grabbing the ankle just beside my shoulder, I pushed his leg out and twisted simultaneously. My arm wasn’t nearly as strong as his leg, but his joint must have pulled uncomfortably (which was the whole idea) and his grip lessened enough for me to shove his leg up and over my head, and I rolled towards him. The arm in his grip bent at the elbow (the right way, thankfully) and I used my momentum to push myself up, flipping over him and wrenching my arm out of his grasp.

He rolled away from me and started to roll onto his feet, but I was quicker. I jumped onto his back, wrapping my legs around his hips and an arm around his throat, tightening just enough to cause him discomfort.

Normally, I would’ve just stayed on the ground and performed the move, but this gave me more leverage, and he had a harder time pushing me off.

Also. I was too short. Not that it mattered or anything.

“I could’ve choked you out by now,” I said, hearing his slight wheeze as he backed me into the ring’s siding, tugging on my arm. My free hand held my wrist, though, and I had too much leverage for him to pry it off. “Yield?”

After a moment more of struggling, he tapped my shoulder, and I immediately released him, jumping down.

_See? Just a practice. Stop freaking out_.

Matthew was exhilarated. Proud of his accomplishment. Happy with himself.

I was shaking. I’d barely kept it together.

Lightly massaging his throat, Lion let out a breathy laugh. “Damn, kid,” he said, clearing his throat and sticking out a hand. “You’ve got some good moves.”

I took it, reluctantly. As soon as he took my hand, he glanced down. “You alright?”

My hand was trembling.

“Yeah, fine,” I said, tucking it into my pocket, looking around. “What’s next?”

He tilted his head, but said nothing as Tiger responded, “Shooting. Let’s see where you rank in your concentration, kid.”

I sighed. I was getting really sick of being called kid.

…

I was glad my hands had steadied by the time we reached the arsenal.

On the wall, behind a locked glass sliding door, were dozens and dozens of weapons. Hand guns, assault rifles, regular rifles, shotguns…the list went on. I was pretty impressed with the assortment.

“Okay,” Lion said, Bear and Tiger talking quietly on the other side of the range. Bear was putting on some earmuffs, and Tiger was handing him a handgun, safety on. I guessed they were going to practice while Lion evaluated me. I saw Bear say something, and Tiger laughed.

Hm. That was a first. He _could_ express a positive emotion.

“Oi,” Lion said, and I snapped back to him, heat creeping into my cheeks. “You listening?”

“Um…no.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing behind him. “Listen. I’m gonna level with you, yeah?” He took a deep breath, his expression drawn. “Don’t take it too personally, about Tiger. We lost…a good friend, about a year ago. Nobody our unit has gotten so far has filled that gap. Tiger took it especially hard, okay? It’s not you personally.”

I shoved my hands in my pockets. “Sorry to hear that.” I felt like a bit of an ass trying to worm my way into their lives with lies and deceit, only to find out that they weren’t accepting me because they’d lost someone.

I knew all about loss.

Every day, I was regretting this decision more and more.

Lion clapped me on the shoulder, smiling. “It’s nothing you need to worry about, hm? Choose a gun.”

I nodded, turning to the case behind me, walking the length of it, looking for one I was familiar with…

I smiled, stopping. _There’s_ my gun.

It was a sleek black handgun, 8 millimeters. Sliding the case open, which Lion had unlocked, I took it off the rack. It slipped into my hand nicely, the ergonomic grip easy in the palm of my hand. I checked the clip; it was full. I slipped it back into place and checked the gage.

“This is a nice freaking gun,” I muttered, because it really was. This was the same model as the first gun I’d ever bought myself (from Smithers, of course). MI6 wouldn’t let me have my own weapon, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t buy one under their noses.

Lion barked a laugh. “Well, it just looks like a gun to me, so I guess it’s a good sign that you can differentiate.”

I made my way over to one of the windows, slipping some earmuffs on and cocking the gun. I zeroed in on the target at the end of the range, lifting my arms. I glanced back at Lion. Out of my periphery, I saw Bear and Tiger watching casually.

Lion nodded, leaning back, his arms crossed. He had put on earmuffs of his own.

I turned back to target and emptied the clip in ten seconds flat.

I’d reached for the extra clip on the table in front of me before the last bullet had even left the chamber. As soon as the trigger recoiled, I popped the empty clip out and jammed the other into place, emptying the second clip in a similar time. The whole reloading process had taken about a second and a half.

It was all over in about twenty seconds.

My heart was pounding. The sound of gunshots brought it all back for a moment, and I had to grip the edge of the counter to steady myself.

None of the others noticed, though, not with how they were all staring at my target.

Lion fumbled for the recall button, and the belt brought us the target in a matter of seconds. Tiger was the one to take it down, laying it flat on the table behind me.

“Holy freaking shit,” Bear breathed, standing behind Tiger. Lion ambled over as well, all of them slack-jawed and staring.

In the very center of the center circle was a single hole.

“Okay,” Bear breathed, putting his hands up and walking away. “I’m out. I’m done. I’m quitting. If there are people who can shoot like _that_ , I’m—wow, we’re all screwed.”

I tilted my head, considering, but didn’t turn around. I was still trying to calm my pulse.

Shaking my head, sliding off the earmuffs with shaking hands, I turned around and joined them. “I’m not an expert for nothing, you know. I know how to shoot.”

“How did you do that?” Tiger asked, disbelief in his voice. He eyed me suspiciously, his hands gripping the counter. “How—that isn’t _possible_ , Jaguar. I’ve met some of the best shots in the country, and they can’t make a perfect freaking circle.”

I pursed my lips. “It’s not perfect. Look.” I pointed to a chip on the right side where one of the bullets had jerked to the right a bit.

I shuddered. In Malagosto, Scorpia would’ve—I didn’t want to think about what they’d have done to a trainee for such an obvious mistake.

No one said anything to that.

Lion ran a hand through his hair. “So, I mean—what is that? That’s not a shooting style I’ve ever seen before. It’s like you didn’t even aim.”

I flinched. If they noticed, they didn’t mention it. “It’s called instinctive shooting.”

“Never heard of it,” Bear said, and Lion looked confused, as well.

“I have,” Tiger said, cold eyes boring into mine. Wow, this day was beginning to suck. “I didn’t think they taught that anymore. Especially not to kids as young as you.”

I shrugged, feeling my shoulders tense. “I had an old-fashioned teacher. Do you need to see anything else?” My tone warned them off of anymore questions, but I knew it was only for the moment.

“Uh—I mean, I guess it’s unnecessary, but yeah, just go back to your window and I’ll replace the targets,” Lion said, folding up the paper and whispering something to Tiger and Bear about the Sergeant.

I grabbed two more clips and loaded the gun, setting the other on the counter in front of me. I was busy making sure the gun was still good, that the trigger hadn’t jammed and the slide was still functioning, so when I looked back up, raising my gun, I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.

I faltered, the gun sagging in front of me, and clenched my hands harder to steady them.

Human targets.

Faceless, thank God, but human targets all the same. Involuntarily, snippets of my training in SCORPIA whipped across my vision, of targets with faces and blood and emotion who each got a bullet straight through the forehead. I knew, I _knew_ , they were just cardboard, just paper, but…

“Whenever you’re ready,” Lion said, and I brought my gun back up, trying to force my arms steady.

I heard new footsteps enter behind me and glanced back to see the Sergeant enter with Bear on his heels, folding his arms and watching carefully. Dammit. I shouldn’t have even looked.

I could feel the gun shaking in my hands and grit my teeth, adjusting my aim. I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t be able to make a kill-shot at this rate, but I could do other things.

I memorized the figure and closed my eyes.

I emptied the clip, adjusting my aim every couple shots, and reloaded just as quickly as I had the last time. I emptied the second one, too; the whole process took a bit longer, but when I opened my eyes, I sighed in relief.

There was silence as the target was brought back, before I distinctly heard Tiger’s, “What the hell?”

I turned, setting the empty gun on the window ledge and taking off the earmuffs, joining the others crowded around the target on the table. Tiger turned angry eyes to me. “Where the hell’s your circle? It looks you played pin the tail on the donkey with vertigo.”

I pursed my lips, watching the Sergeant’s face out of the corner of my eye. He looked pensive, his eyes taking in every bullet hole on the paper, straying to the bullseye every moment or so.

“He’s not going anywhere, anyways,” I said, tapping the leg. “That’s the femoral vein.” I moved my hand to the shoulder. “That’s the brachial artery, and that,” I continued, moving to the left side, “is the exterior oblique muscle. They’re shots to incapacitate for extended periods of time. Any one of these will cause enough bleeding to put them out of commission.”

There was more silence. I shifted uncomfortably, finally retreating to the solace of the window, sliding the gun back into the palm of my hand. “Am I done, or do you want to see anything else?”

Lion rubbed the back of his neck, his facial expression conflicted, and opened his mouth to reply. Before he could, however, the Sergeant said, “Lion, replace the target. Jaguar, grab a clip. I’m going to give you a scenario.”

A jolt traveled down my spine, but I hid it, doing what I was told as Tiger and Bear observed quietly, Tiger still fuming. Lion replaced the target—human again—and the Sergeant started talking.

“You’re on active duty, undercover deep in enemy territory, and you’ve been made. Backup is twenty clicks out. Two of your unit-mates are unconscious, and the other one is two inches away from joining them. There’s someone in front of you; he’s found where you’ve hunkered down. There’s more where he came from. He’s got a gun on you, and he’s not afraid to use it on you or your defenseless teammates. You have one bullet left.” To illustrate, he plucked the clip from my hands and emptied it, sliding one bullet into the top chamber, handing it back to me. His eyes were hard, and from the way he looked at me, I could tell he knew exactly what he was doing. “What do you do?”

I looked down at the gun in my hand and avoided his eyes, turning back towards the target now at the end of the range. I slipped the earmuffs on, taking my time. I slid the gun into my hand again, testing the grip, checking the slide, checking the clip, and finally raising my arms. I stared down the length of the gun, eyes zeroing in on the human target down the range, finding the precise spot in the center of the forehead. I internalized it, I memorized it.

I shot.

After a few seconds, there was a scoff of disbelief and an angry mutter, then heated footsteps marching out of the range, a slew of whispered expletives in his wake. There were softer, more tentative footsteps following. I lowered the gun, my hands in tight fists.

The target was recalled, and Lion took it down, his face creased in disappointment.

There was a single hole two inches to the right of the target’s head, in the white space that would have signified utterly useless air in a real situation.

“So we’ve got a weapons expert and sharpshooter that either refuses to or just can’t shoot real targets,” the Sergeant said, his voice almost expressionless, “but can make a single hole with barely any overlay in anything else.”

I didn’t know if I was supposed to respond. I put the gun down and slid the earmuffs off once again, turning around, standing at attention. “Yes, sir.”

“Pathetic.” I flinched. The Sergeant walked up to me, his impressive frame moving slowly, deliberately. He got right in my face and poked me in the chest, his expression hardly short of murderous. “I refuse to send your unit out on a real mission until you have your act together, Jaguar. You give me another show like that and you’re _binned_. Do you understand?”

I grit my teeth, my hands fisted beside me, and bit out, “Yes, sir.”

With one more shove, he turned and stalked away from me, out the door. The shove had caused me to stumble back into the counter, and I leaned against it, rubbing my sternum. My chest ached where I’d been shoved, just to the right of my scar tissue.

“So…what the hell, Jaguar?” Lion asked, still looking at the targets. “What’s up with you?”

I checked the slide before setting the gun back onto the wall on its handle, sliding the glass door closed. “I’ll work on it.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Lion said, grabbing my bicep when I tried to leave. I flinched at his touch, but if he noticed, he didn’t say anything. “What happened? Why is it that you can shoot so well on regular targets, but the second it’s a person you freak out?”

I jerked my arm out of his grip, and he stumbled back in surprise. “I said I’d work on it. By the time we’re on active duty I’ll be able to do it.”

I walked away from him, not interested in a response. I should’ve gone to the mess, but the thought of the slop made my stomach churn even more than it already was, and I headed to the lake. Checking my surroundings, making sure I was alone, I hoisted myself up into one of the thickest trees, settling myself against the firm trunk, hidden from sight.

I dragged a hand down my face, trying to get my bearings, and clutched at my hair, my face turned down. My forehead rested on my knees.

_Get a grip_. I chided myself, knowing that this was a horribly childish position, that I should take the criticism like a man and fix what needed to be fixed, but I wasn’t a man. I was just a kid, and I was starting to feel it. I wanted to go home.

_You don’t have a home_ , said a voice in the very back of my mind, whispering softly, surely. _There’s nowhere to go._

I shouldn’t have come here.

I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to make a kill-shot on a human target. In the field, it wouldn’t be a problem, which almost scared me more…but I couldn’t very well tell them that and expect everything to be okay, could I?

_If Jack was here, it would be alright_.

I flinched at the thought of her, shutting my eyes tightly against the swell of emotion rising in my chest. I buried my face in my knees and crossed my arms over my head, muffling sound and shutting out the light from the setting sun, hoping to find some piece in the stillness.

It helped. It calmed my breathing, but I couldn’t stop the tears.

I stayed there for the better part of that night, unable to face L-unit. Unwilling.

It was a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!!!


	4. Chapter 4

I skipped breakfast the next morning, electing to take a long shower, instead. I was grateful for the privacy—I was always worried someone would see me, see the scars on my body and the stories that followed, but everyone was in the mess. I snuck into L-Unit’s cabin and changed quickly, meeting them instead at the gym where we’d done hand-to-hand the day before.

“Where were you?” Bear asked the second he saw me. I was by the ring, stretching, warming up. None of the other units had arrived yet. If the rumors were correct, there was some sort of assembly, remedial training of some sort. I guessed our unit had tested out. “You skipped dinner. And breakfast.”

“And you didn’t come back to the cabin,” Lion added, taking a swig of his water bottle and draping his sweat towel over one of the ring’s cords.

“Practicing,” I grunted, trying to touch my toes from where I sat on the ground, grabbing my feet and holding for five seconds before releasing, standing up.

“Don’t bullshit us,” Tiger growled, looking just short of murderous from where he glared at me, doing his own stretches. “The range is locked at night, and I talked to Puma, who opened it this morning. You weren’t there.”

“There’s other ways to practice,” I replied, not looking at him. “Mental practice is actually a big help.”

Tiger scoffed. Bear and Lion didn’t say anything.

I sighed.

“We’re going to have to talk about it at some point,” Lion said in passing as Tiger and Bear readied to face each other in the ring. Bear made a joke and Tiger just barely cracked a smile, turning fond eyes on the younger man.

My heart ached.

“No we’re not,” I said decisively, folding my arms across my chest and staring resolutely into the ring. “I said I’d work on it. I have and I am. Give me a bit of time and I’ll be able to do it.”

“Yeah, that’s not what I’m worried about,” Lion argued, leaning against the ring, flicking his eyes at his two other unit mates. “You’re my unit mate now, Jaguar. I need to trust you with the rest of my unit, because those two idiots are my brothers.” There was something dark in Lion’s eyes. “I want to trust you, but you’re making it hard.”

I couldn’t look at him.

He could never trust me, because I was deceiving him with every word that came out of my mouth.

“You don’t have to trust me,” I said quietly, turning slightly away from him. “and I don’t have to trust you. All I ask is that you trust that I’ll do what it takes to get everyone home, and I’ll trust the same from you. Beyond that…it’s up to you.” I took a breath, steeling myself, and sagged a bit at the bitter taste left by my next words. “I didn’t come looking for a family, Lion. You don’t…you don’t have to treat me like a brother, or even like a friend. I’m just a colleague.”

I didn’t come looking for a family. But _God_ , I wanted one.

Lion didn’t seem to expect that, either. He blinked, face growing cool and impassive, and heaved a world-weary sigh. “You don’t know what it means to be a unit at all, do you, mate?”

I tried to be offended by that, shooting him a sharp glare. There were a couple retorts I could’ve thrown back that would’ve shut him down quick, but they all would’ve revealed something about my identity I wanted buried.

I opted for silence, turning away from him. He didn’t follow up with anything else.

I was starting to hate this place.

…

“You’re up, Jaguar,” Lion said, swinging himself into the ring. Tiger had pinned Bear twice, and they’d come to a standstill the third round. I’d been observing.

Tiger was good. Nowhere near Lion’s level, but that was expected since Lion was the resident expert. He was quick and deliberate with his moves and actions, wasting no time or opportunity. I’d watch out for Tiger.

Bear was inexperienced and clumsy, but he had a good foundation. His form was good. His hits were quick and clean, but he wasn’t very observant. He favored his left side too much and left himself open to attacks.

Bear swung himself out of the ring, breathing heavily. “You know, you could go easy on me,” he pouted towards Tiger, his voice whiny. I resisted the urge to snort. 

“Is an enemy going to go easy on you in the field?” Tiger shot back, taking a long drag from his water bottle, sitting down to unlace his trainers.

Bear grumbled, but didn’t answer. I snagged his shirt-sleeve as he passed, whispering, “Next round, focus on your left side. You leave it open too much because you’re so right-hand dominant. Pay more attention to your opponent instead of just yourself.”

I gave him a pat on the shoulder, ignoring his slack jaw, and swung myself into the ring. “Ready?”

Lion nodded, stretching with his hands behind his back, then bringing them around in front of him, up in loose fists. “Ready.”

When he lashed out, I could tell he was pissed.

He was nothing like the practice match yesterday. His movements were quick and deadly with an aggressive edge that didn’t fit his personality. Obviously I’d pissed him off.

Well, honestly it wasn’t like I’d been _trying_ to. I couldn’t very well have them digging into my past, could I? But something must have set him off, because he wasn’t messing around.

Well, I wouldn’t mess around either, then.

I struck quick at his jaw—a love tap, nothing more—but he swung himself out of the way and responded in kind, shooting a heel towards my kidneys. I shoved his foot down at the ankle and managed to twist out of the path of his fist, but it still glanced off my shoulder.

Ow. He _really_ wasn’t messing around.

“Little riled up, are we?” I said, dancing back to catch my breath.

Lion gave a humorless smile. “You seem to have that effect on people, Jaguar.”

I struck without replying, aiming a fist at his head—

Pain exploded in my chest.

Damn. He’d gotten a lucky shot in. And I’d been trying to be careful, too.

He’d managed to catch me in the chest with the heel of his palm. The shot was directly on my sternum, but I felt my heart shudder at the impact, the ring of scar tissue encircling the bullet wound igniting with just the slightest blow.

My vision went white and I felt my body thud onto the mat.

There was silence for a moment. The breath had been knocked from my lungs, the spasming organs contracting until I finally managed to suck in a sliver of air. I gasped again, my eyes squeezed shut against the onslaught of pain, my heart thudding and thudding and aching—

A hand shook my shoulder, a voice reaching my ears. “Jaguar? Jaguar, come on, man. I didn’t hit you that hard…Jaguar?”

Lion. He sounded worried.

I forced myself to inhale slowly, albeit shakily, and counted to five before exhaling. The pressure of the air trapped in my chest forced my heart to calm, at least a little. Opening my eyes, sitting up slowly, I kept one hand over my chest, massaging the scar tissue. I hunched over as soon as I was sitting up, still out of breath.

“Give me…” I gasped, trying to get the words out, “me a…minute…”

Bear and Tiger had found their way into the ring as well, looking on with concerned eyes. Bear came to kneel beside me, putting a steadying hand on my back. “Oi, breathe, mate. Deep breaths, alright? You’re alright.”

His voice was calm, bearing no trace of the worry in his eyes. I closed my eyes again, forcing myself to take a steadying breath. My heart was still spasming, struggling, the scar tissue aching anew, but the white had cleared from my vision, and breathing was easier now.

“I’m okay,” I wheezed, shrugging off the hands that tried to steady me, immediately wishing I hadn’t. “Bloody hell…”

“What happened?” Lion asked, clasping a hand firmly on my shoulder to keep me upright. The look on his face said he wouldn’t be moving it anytime soon. “I was pulling my punches, Jaguar; it should have winded you, nothing more.”

I wheezed a laugh, fighting to stand, only to fall back onto the mat on my ass. Great start. “I’d hate to see you at…full strength, then…”

I was snapped back into startling clarity as soon as someone’s fingers brushed against my abdomen, seizing the hem of my shirt. Without really registering what was happening, even what was going on, my hand shot out to grip the person’s wrist in a bruising grip, halting their progress.

When my mind caught up with my body after a dizzying second of disassociation, I looked up to see Bear’s wary expression, eyes locked on my white-knuckled grip around his wrist. He was holding a stethoscope. I looked past him to see Tiger holding a first-aid kit. I hadn’t even realized he’d left to get it.

“I’m fine,” I emphasized as strongly as I could. I let go of his wrist, a little guilty as his face scrunched in pain as he shook out the limb. “Sorry.”

“No worries,” he said, inspecting his hand. “You’ve got quite a grip, mate. You’re strong for such a small bloke.”

I shot him a glare, and he grinned impishly before sobering again. “I’d like to listen to your heart, though. That’s where you were grabbing, weren’t you?”

Lion’s head whipped around at his words, the color draining from his face. “What? Jaguar, what’s wrong with your heart?”

_Damn_ , I thought. _This is going to be tough to lie about_.

“I told you I had a heart condition,” I said slowly, my right hand bracing my left shoulder as I rolled my arm around in the socket, trying to ignore the burning tug in the skin above my heart. Sitting up was easier, now. Another minute or so and I’d be steady enough to stand. “I’m just sensitive to contact around the area. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about?” Tiger cut in, speaking his first words since the whole ordeal started. His voice was a low growl. “How about when we get out on an active mission, huh? Somebody hits your chest, you’re down for the count. How’s that nothing to worry about?”

I schooled my features, fixing him with an icy glare. He didn’t seem intimidated. “I’ll handle it. It’ll be fine.”

“You know, you keep saying that,” Tiger said, stalking forward. Lion stood to intercept him, but Tiger just kept talking over his shoulder. “I’ll be able to make a kill-shot. I’ll be able to keep someone from hitting my chest. It’ll be fine.” His lips curled up in a sneer. “There’s something off about you, kid. Did you come here to serve your country or to die?”

“Tiger!” Bear shouted, the word as angry as it was shocked.

For my part, I stood and stalked up to him, my movements slow, deliberate. Calculated. Deadly.

“Excuse me?”

Tiger didn’t seem to sense the purpose in my movements. “We get ‘em, sometimes. People who come here to get themselves killed. They’re the cowards,” he said, and his lips were curled in disgust, and something twisted in my chest that had nothing to do with the pain from a moment ago. “I looked you up, you know. We have access to each others’ files.”

My heart skipped a beat before I remembered that the only file they’d have access to was the one with the fraudulent information. The fake family, the forged GSCE certificates, the fraudulent birth certificates…none of it was real.

“Doesn’t look like you’ve got a lot to live for,” he said, and despite myself, despite the cool exterior, I flinched. “So did you come to die? Because if you came here to take a coward’s way out, I’ll kill you myself, before you bring one or more of us home in a body bag.” He let out a humorless laugh. “Based on your track record, I’d say that happens a lot, yeah? Lots of body bags in your lineup.”

I almost choked.

It had been easier that way. To say that most of my fake family was deceased. But Tiger would never know how painful that one sentence was.

“ _Tiger_.” Lion said, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder and pushing him back a pace or two. “That’s enough.”

He cast a wary glance back at me, but by the time his eyes widened in realization of what was happening, before Bear could cry out a warning, I was already shoving Lion out of the way and sending my fist solidly into Tiger’s jaw.

I had enough presence of mind to pull my punch. If I hadn’t, Tiger’s jaw would’ve been knocked loose from its hinge. He deserved it. But the force was enough to send him reeling back, falling onto the cords surrounding the ring, catching his balance as he put a hand to his surely throbbing jaw.

“You bastard—” He started the insult, but when he met my eyes, he faltered.

I didn’t know if I’d ever stared at someone with this much hatred before. I felt Lion grab me to haul me back, but I shoved him off and grabbed the collar of Tiger’s shirt, and he didn’t fight me. “You don’t know anything about me.” The words were cold and clipped.

Quietly, as a challenge, Tiger let a bit of his previous sneer return. “And whose fault is that?”

I scoffed, letting him go with a shove, swinging myself out of the ring. I didn’t have an answer for him.

“Jaguar,” Lion called, uncertainty in his voice. I didn’t stop. “Jaguar!”

“ _What_?” I growled, barely turning around.

“We need to talk about this,” he said, cringing when he realized how weak that sounded. Tiger’s back was to me. Bear still knelt on the ground, watching the scene with wide eyes.

“Then talk about it.” I left.

…

I went to the range.

I put my perfect circles into three bulls-eyes before I finally worked up the nerve to put a human target in the lineup. There were a couple others practicing as well, but I left them alone and they left me alone.

I slipped on the headphones and hoisted the gun up, staring at the impersonal curves and straight lines of the target, placed to make nothing more than a rough outline of a person. Not only did it not have a face, but there was no way to tell if it was male of female. No way to tell what color eyes they had, what kind of smile they wore. How they dressed.

It wasn’t a person.

It was just cardboard.

I closed my eyes and fired.

I tried to trick myself into making the kill-shot. I went through the list of places I could shoot to incapacitate, and tried to spontaneously work in a headshot without really thinking about it.

Lowering the empty gun, I opened my eyes and recalled the target.

No dice.

I resisted the urge to throw the gun across the range in utter frustration, knowing how well _that_ would end. Instead I took a deep breath, crumpling up the useless paper and throwing it in a nearby rubbish bin. I put the gun back on the rack and left.

Maybe I could run away. Disappear. Just slip away into the forest one night and not come back. I hadn’t been here long enough to leave a mark, not really. I could fade like a ghost and no one would remember Matthew Smith until he popped up somewhere halfway across the world.

I wandered to the lake, sitting down with my back against a tree. The mud soaked into my shorts, but I was too tired to care.

_Did you come here to serve your country or to die_?

I sighed, closing my eyes as I remembered Tiger’s words.

Neither. I came to hide. But one of those wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

I shook my head, shoving the heels of my hands into my eyes. I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t—wouldn’t hurt myself like that. Jack and Sabina, Ian, hell, Yassen—I wouldn’t let them down like that.

“Why the long face?”

My head snapped up, and I looked up to see a face I never thought I’d see again. The Scottish voice was unmistakable.

“Oi, ye’re one o’ the new recruits, right? What’s gone wrong so quick that ye’re hidin’ out here?”

I couldn’t even speak, I was so shocked. Because standing in front of me was Snake.

I supposed I should’ve expected to see them again. They were, after all, SAS. But I didn’t think I’d cross paths with them very much; there were hundreds of men here. I didn’t think I’d ever be alone with them.

“Ye a mute, kid?” Snake said, settling into the mud beside me. “Besides, this was my spot first. It can all be a bit much, the guys and the war. Ye like the quiet, too?”

“Yeah,” I managed to squeak, futilely turning my face away. He didn’t seem like he’d recognized me, though.

“Oh, he speaks,” Snake grinned good-naturedly. “I’m Snake. What’s yer codename?”

“Jaguar,” I said, unfurling my legs and sitting up straighter, trying to appear a little more put together.

“Nice name, that one,” he commented, staring out at the lake. “So, what happened, Jaguar? Ye don’t look so stellar.”

“Nothing,” I said automatically. He raised an eyebrow, and I sighed. “Had a fight with my new unit. S’nothing.”

“Ah, don’t agonize too much over it,” he said, thumping my shoulder solidly. I was still paranoid about him recognizing me, but he didn’t seem to be paying much attention to my face. “New units get into all sorts o’ trouble with each other at first. My unit was a train wreck when we first started.”

“And now?” I asked before I could stop myself.

Snake smiled. “Thick as thieves. Brothers, more like.”

I sighed. That was what I was afraid of.

Snake stood, dusting himself off. “Tell ye what, Jaguar. I’ll share this spot with ye from now on. Looks like ye could use the quiet.”

I breathed out a sigh. Well, he was right about that. “Thanks, Snake.”

“Any time,” he said with an easy smile, starting back towards the camp. “Wolf’ll have me head if I’m late again. Make up with yer unit quick, kid; always easier tha’ way.”

Belatedly, I raised a tentative hand in farewell, watching him walk away.

I gazed over the lake, reveling in the easy silence, and for the first time in a while, I felt myself smile.

Who knew that one of the people who’d tormented me the first time around would be the first one to show me real kindness the second time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so so much for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

I went back to the cabin later that day.

I was going to have to go back at some point. Luckily, when I got there, the others were still out training. I wondered how bad this looked on me, skipping training, punching my unit mates. Missing meals and sleep.

I wondered when I’d stopped caring so much.

Listening for a moment, making sure no one was approaching the cabin, I fished the folded, worn photos out from the bottom of my bag and thumbed through them, sitting on my hard bed in the cold. They had everyone—my parents, the Pleasures, Ian, Jack…even Yassen.

Everyone was dead. Well, Liz and Edward were alive…but hell, I was probably dead to them.

Voices drifted through the closed door. With practiced haste, I dropped the photos to the bottom of the bag and plucked up a book, opening to a random page and pretending to read. My back was to the door.

It opened, and the voices stopped when they saw me.

“Jaguar,” Lion said, his voice a mixture of concerned and pissed. “We didn’t think we’d see you the rest of the day.”

“I didn’t combust,” I responded flatly, turning the page. “I’m still here.”

“How’s your chest?” Bear asked, uncertainly.

Hesitantly, I said, “Better now. Thanks.”

I felt bad. Bear and Lion had actually been nothing but nice and welcoming. Tiger just pushed every button I had.

I sighed. Probably time to do something about that.

“Tiger,” I said slowly. Tiger’s eyes flicked to mine, and he hid his surprise that I was addressing him directly. “I’m sorry I hit you.”

He couldn’t quite hide his surprise at that. Neither could the others.

“But you ever say anything like that to me again, I’ll break your nose.”

Tiger’s eyes narrowed. I had a feeling that was more like what he’d been expecting. “You talk a big game for a runt with a faulty battery,” he said gruffly, slinging himself into his bunk.

“So do you for a guy who needs a pocket dictionary for French,” I retorted, eyes hard. I nodded my head to the smaller book poking just out of his bag. “Communications expert indeed.”

Tiger leaned just far enough over to glare down at me, saying, “Watch it, you bloody pipsqueak. Give me something else to kick your ass over, I dare you.”

“Guys, can you settle down for a damn minute?” Lion asked, hands out placatingly. “We’ve only got a bit of downtime—”

“Don’t let me spoil it for her royal highness,” I said, shoving my book in my bag. “I’ll be at the range.”

“Have fun with your cardboard cutouts, kiddie!” Tiger shouted.

“Good God, it’s like having preteen girls,” Bear said exhaustedly.

I couldn’t quite help a snort at that.

…

The range wasn’t much help.

I managed to nick the ear of a human target, much closer than I’d gotten previously, but still nothing on the kill shot. Sighing, frustrated, I recognized that I wouldn’t get anymore quality practice that day, and replaced the gun.

We had a lecture that day on undercover operations. I felt foolish having to go to it, but I dragged myself there and grabbed a seat in the back. I didn’t see my unit, which was just as well. I probably wouldn’t have taken the initiative to sit with them anyhow.

Unfortunately Lion, the outstanding leader he was, made us sit together in an effort to improve relations.

Needless to say, Lion and Bear sat in the middle.

The lecture was mind-numbingly boring, especially to someone who was actively undercover, using a fake name, personality, background, and disguise, keeping a low profile in a hostile environment.

AKA, yours truly.

I sighed, looking forward to some rest tonight. Granted, I couldn’t be sure Tiger wouldn’t start a campfire with my belongings when I wasn’t looking, but still—the prospect of some real sleep was nice.

I should’ve known the luck of the devil couldn’t last that long.

…

I’d gotten maybe three hours of sleep when the door was kicked down.

My instincts reacted before my mind woke up, launching my body out of bed and into a defensive stance behind it, trying to put some obstacles between us. I blinked rapidly to clear my vision and heard the others waking up, dragged out of bed or startled awake by the noise.

What was happening? Was the base being attacked?

Or was someone here for me?

Had I really been discovered after only six months?

A fist came at me, and I ducked, sending a roundhouse kick to the assailant’s chest. He stumbled back with a wheezed breath, but more men were piling into the room. Lion and Bear had already been dragged outside, and Tiger was being dragged down from his upper bunk.

I was fighting well, but I’d been surprised, overwhelmed, and already exhausted. Someone got in a lucky shot, catching me in the chin. My head snapped back as my lip split open, and someone seized my arm, twisting it behind my back and propelling me forward.

I hissed in pain, struggling anyways, but then there were two, and then _three_ , guys dragging me outside. The forced me to my knees in the mud, the rest of the unit already lined up.

I landed with a grunt, and they released me, but a cold circle of metal at the back of my neck kept my from retaliating.

“Damn kid can squirm,” someone said behind me.

“Is that you excuse for taking so long to get him out here?” The man in front of us said. Risking a glance, I looked up at him. He was tall, _way_ taller than me, in black tactical gear with a handgun in his palm. His face was shrouded in the darkness, but I could tell he had sharp features, and angular jaw with hard eyes to match.

The man behind me didn’t answer, just dug the muzzle harder into the back of my neck. Hissing, I held my hands a little higher.

“Get them out of here,” the leader said, and my arms were immediately grabbed. I was lifted and dragged away towards the storage barracks, the rest of my unit being dragged in front of me in a similar fashion.

I didn’t fight back. I decided to wait it out, see what was going on before reacting.

They threw us into the room like sacks of potatoes and shut the door, a couple dim bulbs illuminating the shoddy space.

Dusting my knees off and standing, I went immediately to the door, testing the lock.

“Don’t bother,” Lion said, making himself comfortable against a wall. “The Green Jackets aren’t that sloppy.”

“Green Jackets?” I asked, testing the hinges for weaknesses. Why did that name sound familiar?

“RTI enforcers. Buch of bloody blockheads, you ask me,” Tiger scoffed, positioning himself next to Lion. “Bear, you alright?”

“Peachy,” the medic spat, sitting up and hissing, an arm around his ribs. “Damn guy could split a rock with that punch.”

“Anything broken?” I asked absently, feeling the draft from the crack of the door.

“Nah, just bruised,” he admitted, lying back down. “I bloody _hate_ RTI.”

If I was being honest, I’d never been more relieved to hear that this was a scheduled training exercise on interrogation.

The other options were much worse.

“Just resist interrogation?” I asked, giving up on the door and running my fingers along the wall, looking for loose nails or boards I could either pry away or use for a weapon.

“Pretty much,” Lion responded. “Anybody spills, we’re all binned—or, in our case, put on probation, since we’re an established unit.”

“Got it, runt?” Tiger grunted, voice deadly serious. “Don’t spill. We clear?”

I scoffed. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

…

The Green Jackets came back after a few hours and dragged Bear away.

Tiger had put up an impressive fight, too, and was now sporting a few nice cuts and bruises to show for his efforts. Lion had pitched in and, when it looked unavoidable, I’d knocked a guy or two off balance to give the others more of a shot, and gotten a bruised shin and damaged pride for my troubles.

“They can’t hurt us too badly,” I said, trying to get Tiger to stop _pacing_. “He’ll come back bruised up, nothing more.”

“Oh, because you’re such an expert,” Tiger responded, running a hand through his hair.

“The SAS isn’t going to be very effective if one of their entire bases is laid up with post-RTI injuries for two weeks at a time every rotation,” I deadpanned, stretching out my legs and trying to get comfortable.

The logic of that statement seemed to calm Tiger somewhat, but he didn’t stop pacing.

Lion clapped me on the shoulder and asked, “How you holding up, rookie?”

I almost smiled. If only they knew. “Fine. Bit peaky.”

“We got the bloody comedian,” Tiger said. “Outstanding.”

At that moment, the Green Jackets thrust open the door and tossed Bear inside, shivering and dripping wet, a bit bruised up, but okay.

After the Green Jackets left, Tiger dropped to his knees beside Bear, hand on his shoulder. Lion sat up straighter, his face pinched in concern. “Henry?”

Henry. Was that Bear’s real name?

“I’m g-good.” Bear held up a shaking thumbs up, rolling over onto his back. “I’m just—gonna sleep a while. Yeah, I’ll just t-t-take a nap.”

Tiger dropped his head, exhaling in relief, and patted Bear’s shoulder, dragging him over the wall and pillowing his head with his outer shirt. “Damn kid. Giving me a heart attack.”

Lion lightly patted Bear’s chest with a smile. “Rest up. They’ll be back soon.”

I looked away. It seemed like a moment I shouldn’t have been there for, anyways.

…

They took Tiger and brought him back with similar results, but with a bit more bruising minus the sopping wet part. Then they took me.

I went willingly. If it was just an exercise, I didn’t have much to worry about.

After all, after being drugged, unable to move on a conveyor belt taking me inch by inch towards a sugar cane crusher, a few punches and some cold water seemed to pale in comparison.

We walked across the camp a bit, my bare feet scraped and caked in mud, freezing cold by the time we got there. They threw me down as soon as we were inside, only to haul me back up and snap my wrists in handcuffs wound above a pole stretching parallel to the ceiling.

I wasn’t particularly tall, so the position was more than uncomfortable, only the tips of my toes brushing the ground. My shoulders were already feeling the strain.

“What’ve we got here?” A familiar voice asked. I looked around the poorly lit room to see the leader from earlier, watching interestedly. “You look even younger in proper lighting. How old are you, kid?”

I smirked, lifting my chin. Resistance to interrogation meant no letting a single piece of information slip. “Old enough to realize what a shoddy trick that was.”

One of the goons sent a fist into my stomach. It wasn’t a love tap, for sure. It knocked the breath from my lungs, and I couldn’t double over or catch my breath. I coughed, sucking in air as soon as my spasming lungs were able, heart clenching.

“You’ve got a mouth on you,” the leader said, leaving his position to stand in front of me. “Your friends didn’t talk, but I’ve got a feeling you’ll do me the honor.”

“Bite me,” I said, spitting at his feet.

My heart was pounding, my head was light, and fear was coursing through me. But at least, in this situation, I had the comfort of knowing it wasn’t real.

_It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real_.

The man smirked. “Because you asked so nicely.”

The man held out his hand, and then a goon plopped a taser into it.

Oh.

Oh _shit_.

“Wait,” I said, eyeing the device. “This is RTI, right? I have a heart condition. It’s in my file.”

The man hesitated for a second, then smirked. “Good one, chief. Almost got me.”

And with that, turned the thing on and shoved it into my ribs.

I’d been actually electrocuted before—which was a lot worse—but apparently, being tased sucked, too.

The electricity flowed from the spot on my stomach through my throbbing fingertips and pounding head, sparking life in my numb toes and burning every fiber of my body. I screamed through clenched teeth, my jaw locked from the current.

It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds before he pulled it away, but that was enough to send my heart into panic mode.

It was beating out of control, weak and thready and all over the place, and I was starting to get a little nervous that it might actually lead to an arrythmia or something worse.

“Feel…my pulse,” I managed, panting from the strain on my arms and trying to get my body to stop twitching, my head hanging low. “My heart…it isn’t—”

“What’s your name, kid?” He asked, unrelenting. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head up. I grunted at the pressure, teeth clenched, and opened my eyes. His form was blurry, swimming in and out of focus. “Name, rank, and unit ID, and I’ll let you walk.”

I heaved a deep breath, realizing I wasn’t going to get anywhere. “I’m serious. I’m…sensitive to…trauma and electricity…”

The man’s eyebrows furrowed, and he dropped my head. “Somebody check the kid’s file.”

Someone responded and left the room, and I exhaled in relief. Surely they wouldn’t—

A fist hit me square in the jaw, and my head snapped back. I fought to keep my balance on my toes, spitting a glob of blood and saliva to the side. “You’re wasting…your time,” I said, my teeth bared in a bloody grin.

Someone hustled back in, crinkling papers in hand. “It’s true, Gray. Heart condition.”

The leader—Gray—swore. “Fine, take him back. Bring the last one.” Gray fixed his steely eyes on me and said, “This isn’t over, kid. You have an hour to rest up, then I’m coming back for you.”

They unhooked my wrists and dragged me away. I decided not to shout anything back, instead trying to keep my numb feet under me as they dragged me through the mud, my heart and chest throbbing with every step.

They unlocked the door and threw me inside, where I landed in a heap. It felt too nice to move right away.

“Keep an eye on him,” one of the Green Jackets said, tone flat. “We didn’t know he had a heart condition, and tasered him. He starts dying or anything, bang on the door.”

And they left, taking Lion with them.

I closed my eyes and tried to breathe deeply, trying to slow the beating of my heart.

I was scared.

Punches, threats, beatings—I was fine. I could hold out. But my own body? Not being able to control my heart, or when it chose to beat or give out on me?

I was _terrified_.

My hands shook.

“Oi,” Bear’s voice floated over my head, and a hand came to rest on my shoulder. “Lay on your back, Jaguar, it’ll be easier to breathe.”

I did as he said—with a little help from him—and breathed as deeply as I could, trying to will my heartbeat to slow down. I heard him whisper something to Tiger, who scooted over, and then my head was being lifted and pillowed on something—a jacket? A shirt?

Did Tiger just give me his shirt for a pillow?

Good God, miracles _did_ happen.

Bear’s cold fingers found my neck and I flinched, but he pressed them against my jugular and waited. I felt my pulse thrumming frantically under his fingertips, and focused on breathing.

“You’re alright, kid,” Bear said, keeping his fingers in place. “It’s alright. It’s already evening out.”

I gave a terse nod and swallowed, trying to open my eyes, but the headache pounding behind my head was too much.

“Sleep some, alright? That’ll help.”

Nodding again, I exhaled shakily.

It took a few minutes, but the terror fled, replaced with utter exhaustion, and I slept.

…

I couldn’t have woken more than an hour or so later, because Lion was freshly back with some cuts and bruises—sopping wet like Bear—but otherwise okay.

My head was still pillowed on Tiger’s shirt, and my breath clouded a bit when I breathed out, opening my bleary eyes.

“He lives,” Bear joked, scooting over to my side. “How do you feel?”

“Alive,” I responded tersely, grabbing at my left shoulder when I tried to sit up and it gave an uncomfortable pull. Bear put a steadying hand on my shoulder as I did so, waiting until I was steady. “Bit twitchy.”

“Electrocution will do that, unfortunately,” Lion said with a smile, though he was shivering up a storm, himself.

Glancing back, I carefully lifted the shirt, looking at it for a minute before handing it back to Tiger. I’d surprised him; he glanced at me from where he’d been staring at a spot on the wall, belatedly reaching for it.

“Thank you,” I told him, as sincerely as I could.

He seemed startled that I was actually making eye contact with him for a purpose other than to insult him, but he took the shirt with a nod, slipping it back on.

“Look at them, getting along,” Lion said with a teasing tone, a grin on his face.

Bear gave a little laugh, saying, “It’s okay, Jaguar. Tiger’s actually just a ball of fluff when you get to know him.”

Tiger’s eyebrow twitched. “I’ll hit you, Bear. Don’t think I won’t.”

I was unable to keep a little smile off my face. I opened my mouth to respond—

\--and the door caved in, right on time.

Ten or so Green Jackets flooded the room, seizing each of us before we could react. If I’d been at full strength there wouldn’t have been a problem, but my chest was still throbbing.

“String up the little one,” I recognized the voice of the leader—Gray—before he came into the room. “Let’s see how much your new unit really values you, kiddo.”

I almost spat something along the lines of _not very much, so you’re wasting your time_ , but that seemed pretty rude considering the almost genuine moment of camaraderie we’d just shared.

I didn’t fight as they again shackled my hands above my head, the pull on my left shoulder agonizing. I tried to wipe my face clear of emotions, but I knew they could tell I was in pain.

“Oi, don’t you think this is a little dirty?” Lion asked with a smirk, but I could see the worry in his eyes. “In a fair fight—”

He was cut off by a brutal hit to his midsection, coughing and sagging in his captor’s grip for a second. Tiger growled and jerked at the hands holding him, as did Bear, but it had little effect. With as beaten and battered as we all were, they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Gray turned back to me, and I did my best to lift my chin with the strain on my upper body. “Gonna zap me again?”

Gray quirked a smile. “No. Too much bloody paperwork if you bite it. There are other ways I can get my information.”

He punctuated the sentiment with a fist to my mouth, snapping my head back. My brain rattled in my skull, and I could feel my earlier split lip reopening, blood running down my chin, staining my teeth.

“Names, ranks, unit ID, and any other valuable information you can think of, and this stops,” Gray said, turning to the other three. “Otherwise I keep beating on the kid.”

My eyes narrowed, and I spat to the side. It was a good psychological tactic—I was the youngest of the group, and generally, the youngest members of any community were the most protected. It was a natural law, even among animals.

I smiled wryly at that.

“Cut his shirt off. I want them to see every hit the kid takes, understood?”

Wait.

No. They couldn’t—they could _not_ see—

Someone came at me with a switchblade, eyes determined. “You behave and I won’t cut anywhere I’m not supposed to, okay, kid?”

Needless to say, once he was within range, I leveraged my battered body up as far as I could and kicked him straight in the chest.

He collapsed back, the wind knocked out of him, and the switchblade went skittering across the ground.

“For hell’s sake,” Gray muttered, marching over to me. I tried to kick him, this time laced with desperation, but his just caught my ankle and pushed my leg back down. He was too close for my kicks to do any damage. “I’ll do it my bloody self.”

“No, _don’t_ ,” I yelled, caving into the fear squirming in the put of my stomach. “ _Don’t_ —”

I was in a cotton t-shirt that I had only to sleep in. It wasn’t meant for durability or strength, just sleeping. So when Gray wrapped his fist around the collar and tore it straight off, there was no resistance.

The entire cabin went eerily silent, only my heaving breaths audible.

I felt the humiliation take hold, my neck and face and ears turning red as I grit my teeth and stared at the floor, absolutely unwilling to let this maniac see me cry, though it’s all I wanted to do.

Nobody— _nobody—_ was supposed to see…this.

“Jaguar?” Bear’s voice, hesitant and dare I say gentle.

I didn’t want his bloody pity.

“Well,” Gray said, eyes raking up and down my prone body slowly enough to make me shiver, “looks like someone worked you over real good, kid. How are you alive?”

I didn't respond.

My head was pounding with embarrassment, anger and hatred simmering beneath it. Gray turned from me and started taunting the others--threatening, talking, I didn't know--but this was the most humiliated and ashamed I'd felt in a long time, and it was taking its toll.

Hell was going to have to freeze over before I took this lying down. 

“Hey,” I muttered when he kept blabbering at the rest of my unit. “Gray, right? That’s your name?”

Gray turned halfway back to me, eyes dark. “What about it, half-pint?”

“Come here and I’ll tell you what you want.”

I saw a lot of eyes widen, namely those of my unit-mates. “Jaguar, do _not_ compromise this mission,” Lion said, his voice even and firm. He earned another gut punch for his troubles.

I didn’t look at him, though. I just kept my eyes on Gray, going for sincere. Resigned. Defeated. “Please. I promise.”

Gray took a few steps forward, just a couple feet from me. “Well?”

“Closer,” I said, giving a furtive glance towards my unit. “I don’t want them to hear what I’m going to tell you.”

Gray raised an eyebrow, but leaned in closer, turning his head so his ear was only a couple inches from my face. “Hey,” I said again, and wondering what I wanted, he turned his face just slightly towards me.

As soon as he did so, I snapped my head forward in a vicious headbutt that had me seeing stars.

I heard the shouts of alarm and surprise from the other occupants in the room, but my head was still clearing from the dizzying escapade. I saw Gray’s blurry outline; he was clutching his nose for all he was worth, and one side of his face was already darkening red.

“My message,” I said, spitting to the side again, “is for you book yourself a one-way ticket to hell.”

Gray’s eyes narrowed comically above his hand, which covered half of his face. Blood leaked between his fingers, staining his pristine green jacket.

Bear laughed. “I think I’m starting to like you, Jaguar.”

Somebody smacked him for that, but his words sent a flutter of warmth through my shivering body.

It didn’t last long.

“I might actually kill you for that,” Gray said quietly, flicking his hand to the side, droplets of blood staining the wall beside him. “You, or one of you unit mates. How would that feel, _Jaguar_? Would you like to watch that, you little _bastard_?”

“No,” I admitted, steeling myself as he ambled closer to me, my vision finally clearing. “But I’ll watch it happen to you, arsehole.”

In the commotion, when no one’s eyes were on me, I’d worked the loose nail I’d found sticking out of one of the doors out of my grip and into one of the handcuffs. Finally, now that he was close enough to attack, I twisted it, one shackle coming loose. I dropped to the floor in a crouch and rolled away, my shoulders aching in protest.

I tossed the bloody nail aside and looked at the handcuffs dangling from my wrist, grinning up at Gray’s mortified expression. “If you tell me to resist interrogation,” I said, standing and lowering myself into a defensive crouch, “then bloody hell, I’m going to _resist_. You understand?”

“Get him,” Gray growled, and the unoccupied Green Jackets charged at me. Through the tangle of limbs and bodies headed my way, I got a glimpse of my unit mates fighting back, as well. I had just enough time to see Tiger shake one off enough to clock him with a sucker punch before I was lost in my own fight, but I was glad they’d gotten the message.

I had been held and tortured for information far too many times to think that waiting it out was a good idea.

I heard someone yell about getting the Sergeant, but I was too locked in my own fight to care much. Three of them were coming at me, a chaotic tussle of hands and feet and vicious jabs and hits. I took more than I gave, regrettably, but I gave enough to keep them back.

Someone finally caught me on the left side, just above my heart, and the pain was _blinding_.

I went down with a cry, my hands instinctively going to my chest, and curled in on myself to protect what I could from the kicks that followed. I heard my name shouted—well, Jaguar, anyways—but the pain was too blinding to do much of anything about it.

Suddenly, the kicks stopped.

A booming voice, one that reverberated through entire little shack, shouted, “What the _devil_ is going on here?”

Gasping in one breath after the other, trying to maintain consciousness, I almost missed the hands that grabbed my shoulders and hauled me to my knees. The support vanished and I collapsed back on my heels, steadying myself with my hands on the ground.

The Sergeant stood in the doorway, and even in his sleepwear, he looked like a General straight out of a warzone.

“This one,” Gray spat, punctuating the statement by fisting a hand in my hair and yanking my head up, “decided he would be a cheeky little _shit_ and fight back, and now half my guys are going to the infirmary straight after they leave here.”

The passing look of confusion, the look of understanding, and the absolute face of _rage_ that finally settled on the Sergeant’s face was downright comical.

“Lieutenant Gray,” he growled, his beefy arms folded across his chest as he stalked right up to the man, dwarfing him by the sheer look of anger on his face, “are you telling me that you had one of your men run to my barracks _screaming_ like the base was being bloody mutilated—to tell me that _you_ and _your men_ couldn’t handle the retaliation of one kid—WHO ISN’T EVEN LEGAL TO _DRINK_ YET?!?!”

Throughout the tirade, Gray’s face had slowly lost its color, and he was looking a bit—well, gray. “S-sir, I—”

“Get out of here,” the Sergeant said, pointing at the door. “You _ever_ pull a stunt like that again, you’re officially relieved of service for the British Special Air Service Forces. Do I make myself _perfectly_ clear, soldier?”

“Y-yes, sir,” Gray stuttered, the once impressive man reduced to a shaking mess as he and his men ran out with their proverbial tails between their legs. More then a few of them were limping and stumbling under their own weight, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit of vindictive pride.

I dropped my head, heaving in a breath as my ribs creaked under my own weight, shutting my eyes against the dizzying light.

“Men. Explain, _now_.”

There was a beat of silence, before Lion stood—painfully, from the sounds of it—and said, “Yes, sir. We were participating in the scheduled RTI session, sir, and—”

“It was…my fault,” I heaved, taking a stuttering breath before wobbling to my feet, swaying a bit before steadying. Bear was slouched against the wall, but despite the slump of his frame, his eyes were bright. Tiger wasn’t much better, but his posture was energized, coiled tight in expectance of another hit. Lion hadn’t fared too well, either, but the reluctant acceptance I thought he’d show was replaced instead by…wait, was that _pride_?

I attributed it to a trick of the light and the nauseating swaying of my vision.

“You see, sir,” I said, lifting my chin and staring the Sergeant in the eye, “when I was told that this was RTI, I took it to mean an exercise in resisting interrogation that was meant to simulate an experience we might have as prisoners of war.” Taking a steadying breath, stumbling a bit, I said, “In that situation, I wouldn’t have waited for the exercise to be over. I would have waited for an opening, and escaped.”

“You call this escaping? You all look like you were three rounds with a heavyweight champ.”

I quirked a smile, but a violent shiver reminded me of just how exposed I was, and I couldn’t help but look down, mortified by my scars, the bumps and ridges that covered every inch of my torso. “With all due respect, sir, the opposition didn’t leave unscathed.”

The Sergeant raised an eyebrow, but sighed nonetheless. “I suppose that’s true.” Then, surprisingly enough, he smiled. “You’re the first unit to every really fight back like this. Color me impressed, gentlemen. Gray’s a piece of work, no doubt, but I’ve never seen him quite this riled up.” He smiled a little, looking back at Lion and the others. “Take tomorrow off.”

I couldn’t quite help the way my eyes widened in surprise. “Sir?”

“You out-performed every other unit in the exercise. Even now, most of them are probably letting themselves be beaten senseless, waiting it out. But like you said, real life isn’t going to be like that. You’re going to have to make your own escape.” He looked me up and down, his eyes settling on my chest, and I crossed my arms pointedly. With the practice of only a trained soldier, he hid his surprise and continued talking. “It doesn’t look like it worked out so well this time, but I get the feeling you’ll improve. What happened there, Jaguar?”

The question was slipped so seamlessly into the conversation that I barely noticed it. I kept eye contact with him only because I couldn’t bear myself to look towards my unit mates. “Nothing from tonight, sir.”

The Sergeant heard the finality in my voice and gave up, nodding. “Get some rest, men. Day after tomorrow, I expect you back to training.”

Tiger heaved Bear off the floor, supporting him with an arm around his waist, and the two of them limped out of the shack after a nod in the Sergeant’s direction. Lion followed, his eyes lingering on me a moment. I nodded at him to let him know I’d be coming.

I scooped the remains of my shirt off the ground and shrugged it on, pulling it closed in the front in a shabby attempt to cover the scars everyone had already bloody seen.

“Jaguar.”

The Sergeant’s rumbling voice stopped me in the doorway, and I gave half a glance back.

“Those are some war wounds, boy.”

I didn’t know how to respond, so I fell back on the simple safety of a, “Yes, sir.”

“You have a unit for a reason,” I twitched at his words, lowering my eyes. “and it’s not to stand there and look pretty. You can rely on them.”

I didn’t respond for a second. “Will that be all, sir?”

“How’s your kill-shot coming along?”

I turned fully, then, trying to wipe the questioning expression from my face. “It’s…better, sir. I’m making progress.”

The Sergeant nodded thoughtfully, stooping to the ground and picking something up, rolling it between his fingers. “You’re promising, Jaguar. You have talent and intellect that a lot of men don’t have at the end of their tours.” He tossed the object at me, and I caught it clumsily.

It was the bloodied nail I’d used to pick the lock on my handcuff.

“You’re resourceful, too. I’ll give you that. But if you keep trying to go it alone, one or more of you is going to come home in a body bag. You understand me?”

I flinched. “Sir, I—”

“Dismissed, Jaguar.”

Hesitantly, I nodded, and left.

…

I opened the cabin door, stepped inside, and walked directly to my bed, collapsing into the sheets. I rolled away from them, massaging my left shoulder and cataloging every ache and pain in my body, deeming them all superficial enough to leave until morning.

I felt three pairs of eyes follow my every step, and said, “I’m not answering any questions. I’m going to sleep.” I pulled the blanket up to my shoulders, relishing in the absolute comfort of knowing they couldn’t see the scars anymore.

There was silence for a moment, and then the light was turned out. “We’ll ask tomorrow, then.” Lion’s voice.

I didn’t answer.

_You have a unit for a reason, and it’s not to stand there and look pretty._

 _You can rely on them_.

Closing my eyes, drifting to sleep, I thought about it. A folded up shirt from Tiger—the pride in Lion’s eyes when I fought back and stood up to Gray and the Sergeant—

_I think I’m starting to like you, Jaguar._ Courtesy of Bear.

Even amidst the shivering and the shaking that had little to do with the cold or the pain, I managed a smile.

I thought maybe I was starting to like them, too.

However dangerous it was.


	6. Chapter 6

I was up and gone before the sun.

I’d gotten some sleep, but the nightmares had started soon after. Having my scars exposed, being restrained and tormented for information—it brought back too many memories for my already fragile psyche to healthily process.

I’d shot up in bed, panting, sweating, gasping for air like my life depended on it.

After a second, I realized where I was, clamping my hands over my mouth. Luckily, though, the other three were exhausted, as well. All I got was some movement from Lion, and then the cabin was silent and still once more. Aside from Bear’s incessant snoring.

I breathed a shaky sigh of relief, getting out of bed and changing out of the sweat-soaked clothing. I tried to avoid the creaky floorboards, but I could only do so much so off-balance. My entire body was positively _throbbing_.

I grabbed my toiletries and headed to the showers, pulling the curtain closed and turning the faucet on. I relished the privacy. I usually took showers in the middle of the night, anyways—to avoid anyone seeing my scars (which was so freaking pointless now)—but most of them were still participating in RTI, anyways, so I was extra sure no one would walk in on me.

I took my time enjoying the rarity of hot water all to myself, scrubbing away the dirt and blood and sweat caked on my skin. The scratches and cuts bled sluggishly as the fresh scabs peeled away, and the hot water stung. The bruises littering my skin were dark and painful. I’d have to wrap my ribs at some point.

Clenching my jaw, in a burst of anger, I slammed my fist into the side of the shower stall, panting.

Great. A couple split knuckles to add to that list.

I panted angrily. I couldn’t shove it down.

They’d _seen_. All three of them, Gray and his men, the bloody Sergeant. But _those three_ , who I’d spend two more years with, if everything went to plan. They’d seen the ridges and bumps, the burns, the scarred cuts and gouges, the—the _bullet_ —

I finished showering and threw on my uniform, still shaking.

My hand trembled. There was probably a broken knuckle in there, somewhere. Good thing I’d punched with my nondominant hand.

The sun was just peeking up past the horizon. I saw Green Jackets strolling around, barking orders. One of them looked my way. For a moment, I thought they were going to think I was an escaped RTI prisoner (which, technically, I was) but he just sent a cold glower in my direction and kept walking. I guessed the Sergeant had informed them my unit was to be left alone, then.

I made my way to the range, surprised it was open since there was no training. I’d been finding myself here a lot, lately, working on the bloody headshot.

I felt different, today, though. Stronger. Faster.

Angrier.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

I set up my target as always, starting with the bullseye, and grabbed my gun. I didn’t bother with the headphones. I found them stupid, anyways. No one would let you where headphones in a gunfight.

A perfect circle. Not a mark out of place.

Almost throwing it aside, I put up the human target and stalked back to my window as it was drawn down-range, and hefted my gun.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

My scars, this unit…this place…

…my _life_.

I wasn’t supposed to _be like this_.

Scarred and scared and young and so angry and hurt and desperate and ashamed and so _utterly_ alone.

I shot, relying purely on this _rage_ , the abject _wrongness_ of it all, and drew on the emotions I’d worked so bloody hard to keep hidden from Matthew’s expressions.

Matthew didn’t bloody _exist_ , though!

So Alex took the shot— _I_ took the shots—and with a hoarse yell, I put every ounce of suffering I couldn’t carry anymore into every one of those bullets.

And I opened my eyes to find a bloody headshot staring back at me. One perfect circle, in the middle of the target’s forehead, where ten bullets had passed through consecutively. There was no overlay.

Just one circle. I lowered the gun.

I realized I was panting again.

“That was quite a show.”

It was purely exhaustion that kept me from spinning around, empty gun up and ready to fire at whoever the hell was dumb enough to sneak up on me.

“Yeah? Well, it’s a private party.” I grabbed another clip. “Thought you’d be enjoying your day off.”

Tiger scoffed, walking further into the room. I noticed him favoring his left side. “Nothing to do. Bear and Lion are still dead to the world. Like I thought you’d be.”

I shoved the clip into the gun with more force than was strictly necessary, hissing at the pain that flared in my ribs and knuckles. “Does this conversation have a point, Tiger?”

“Well, the point is about to be my foot up your ass, you keep mouthing off like that. I can’t even have a conversation with you?”

“I don’t recall you wanting to before,” I muttered, hefting the gun and lining it up. I took a test shot, aiming for the brachial artery, and was pleased to see a clean hit. “If you’re gonna shoot, shoot. If not, leave me alone.”

I heard Tiger scoff again, muttering some unflattering expletives before grabbing a gun off the rack and claiming the window beside me.

I almost griped about how that wasn’t an invitation, but I didn’t, because it kind of was. Dammit.

“Jaguar—”

I fired off the rest of the clip, cutting him off.

Lowering the gun, I narrowed my eyes.

Having him here was unsettling. I’d gotten the brachial artery again, and the femoral vein was manageable, but all my other shots were a little wide. I was at least glad to see I’d hit the head of the target, but it was far from a kill shot.

A beat of silence let the reverberations die down, and Tiger said, “You’re getting better.” He peered over, his brow furrowing. “Even with a busted hand. When’d that happen?”

“Why are you _here_?” I finally snapped, slamming the empty gun on the window.

Tiger’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t make anything easy, do you, brat?”

I scoffed, grabbing my gun and turning away. I shoved it back on the rack, closing and locking the glass door, and headed for the exit.

“Bloody hell, Jaguar. I’m _sorry_.”

I stopped short, because of all the obscenities I imagined would come out of Tiger’s mouth, that last phrase wasn’t among them.

“I’m sorry I’ve been…well, an arse. You’re annoying as hell—and you never know when to stop _bloody_ talking—but…I haven’t exactly been a sunflower, either.”

There was a second of silence. Someone shouted in the distance.

I curled my hands into fists, my left one screaming as the split knuckles reopened. “The _hell_ is your problem?”

Even without looking at him, I could practically feel Tiger’s posture stiffen. That wasn’t what he’d expected, either. “Seriously? I just—”

Whirling around, stalking up to him, I fisted my hands in his shirt and shoved him against the wall. Maybe a little harder than I should’ve, but he’d be fine. He was a few inches taller than me, and his build was impressive…but my strength was nothing to scoff at, and the adrenaline buzzing through my body made it easy to pin him. “Is this a _joke_ to you? You think I want your pity now? Just because you saw—”

I cut myself off. I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

Tiger’s mouth was drawn up in an ugly, challenging snarl, but as soon as the words left my mouth, something loosened in his expression. “What? No. Get off me, brat.”

With a shove, I let him go, stalking back to the table. I steadied myself on it as the world swayed around me, but there was enough anger in me to keep me upright. “Screw you, Tiger.”

“If you’d _listen_ a damn second,” Tiger spat, “maybe you’d be able to get it through your thick skull that I’m not giving you pity. I’m—” Tiger sighed, and I heard him scratch the back of his head, hissing at the pull on his ribs. “I’m trying to—shit. I’m telling you you’ve got my _respect_. Not my pity.”

That threw me.

“I’ve— _what_?” I asked incredulously, barely turning my head to look at him out of my periphery. My legs were shaking. “You _hate_ me. You think I’m gonna get us all killed, remember? Why the hell would you want to give me your _respect_?”

Tiger sighed, exasperated. “For the love of—you don’t give _up_ , do you? I’ll be the first to admit it—when the Sergeant said you’d be joining our unit, I thought I’d be coming home in a body bag. Face it, Jaguar, you don’t look like a soldier. And you—you’re so damn _secretive_ all the time, it was bloody hard to think you weren’t something like a spy for an enemy!” I flinched, but he didn’t see, and kept going. “So, yeah—I was an arse, because I thought you’d get me and my brothers killed. Either because you were on the wrong side, or because you were a stupid kid with a fantasy of coming home a hero who had _no idea_ what a war was like. What it means to—”

He cut himself off with a grunt, running a hand through his short hair. “But I know I’m wrong now. You’ve—you’ve seen some shit, kid.”

Heaving a deep breath, I let myself collapse into the chair, my legs finally unable to support me anymore. “Yeah. I’ve seen some shit. So what?”

“So I’ve seen some shit, too. So have Lion and Bear. And I know now that you know what it’s like to…to go through shit you can’t really come back from. At least, not for a long while.”

I lowered my eyes. “Your point?”

“I didn’t think you were one of us.” Tiger shrugged. “I was wrong. And I’m sorry.”

I fisted my good hand, exhaustion slumping my shoulders.

He’d just…accepted me.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t want to—

_I didn’t come looking for a family_. I’d said that to Lion, and I’d meant it.

But I thought maybe I’d…miscalculated.

Maybe it wasn’t just up to me to decide that, and that was the scariest thing about it.

“You look like hell, brat. Let Bear fix you up.”

I scoffed, but within was a defeated laugh. “You’re no runway model yourself.”

I glanced at him, half-afraid of his reaction, but—so unlike Tiger—he was smiling. “I could learn to like you, Dorothy.”

I laughed at that, hissing at the pull on my ribs. “Bear was right. You are just a big ball of fluff.”

Tiger’s eyes darkened, but I could see the amusement in them. “Watch it, brat. I said I could learn, but I’ll still kick your ass.”

I snorted. “I figured.”

Inhaling slowly, I pushed myself up, my legs shaking. I took a step towards the doorway before my legs collapsed under me. _Oh, that was truly awe-inspiring,_ I thought to myself as I fell, feeling my neck heat up. _Way to act like a man._

I braced myself, thinking I’d hit the ground hard, but suddenly a pair of hands were steadying me. “Damn kid,” Tiger’s gruff voice said by my head as he pulled one of my arms over his shoulders. “You shouldn’t have gotten up if you were like this.”

I wasn’t…scared.

Tiger had me effectively against his side—he had to, to support the considerable amount of my weight he was taking—and the close contact would normally have me panicking.

But I wasn’t scared.

And _that_ scared me, because I could _not_ be actually starting to trust him.

It wasn’t an option. It couldn’t happen. Him, and Bear, and Lion—if I trusted them, then—

“Bear’s going to be fussing over you for days. I don’t envy you,” Tiger said casually, practically dragging me across the field and towards our cabin. “He’s a bouncy little devil, but he’s downright neurotic when one of us is hurt.”

—then my cover was for nothing.

“Really?” I asked, the exhaustion seeping into my voice.

I let myself lean on Tiger a little more, and he readjusted his hold on me. “You’re heavier than you look.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, taking some more of my weight back. That was a test. He was just—I don’t know, playing it off, or—

“I wasn’t saying don’t rely on me, idiot. It was an observation.”

Scoffing, but smiling, I let some more of my weight go. I was barely standing as it was, anyways.

“You can rely on us. That’s what a unit’s for.”

“Then why’d you try to hard to make me quit?” I asked, my filter a little off with how much pain I was in. I probably shouldn’t have asked that, but…too late now.

“Because you weren’t in my unit until last night.” I snorted, smiling as he continued, “And it wasn’t just that I saw that you knew what it was like to go through something big. The way you handled Gray and his guys?” Tiger snorted a laugh. “Priceless, kid. Gray’s been around a couple years, and I’ve never seen him like that. The Sergeant damn near made him wet his pants.”

I laughed at the memory. It hurt.

I didn’t mind so much.

We were back at the cabin; I’d barely noticed how much ground we’d covered. Tiger kicked the door open with enough force to send Bear rolling out of bed with a thump, flailing in his blankets.

“Wha—no, we had the day off—” He peeked up and saw Tiger depositing me on my bunk, though, and sighed, collapsing back to the ground. “Oh, s’you. I’m going back to sleep.”

“You’ve got enough beauty sleep, Bear, get up.” Tiger prodded him with the toe of his boot until Bear opened one eye. “Jaguar needs some medical help.”

“What?” Bear asked, seeming more alert. He stretched, yawning, and looked over at me where I sat slumped on my bed, an arm around my middle. “Damn! You’re a color palette, Jaguar!”

“Shut up,” I muttered, heat flaming in my cheeks.

“What the _hell’s_ so noisy,” Lion slurred, peeking down from his top bunk. “Day off means sleeping in. Can it.”

“His highness could probably use some medical help too, Bear,” Tiger grunted with a nod at Lion’s bunk.

Lion muttered something unflattering and threw a pair of socks at Tiger. They thunked uselessly off his head, but his expression was pretty funny.

Bear sat down in front of me with a yawn. “Where’s it hurt? If you’re good I’ll give you a lollipop when we’re done.”

“Screw you, Bear,” I muttered, hissing as I held out my hand.

Bear took it gently, examining it with practiced ease. “You didn’t get this from the Green Jackets,” he said, his usual preschooler-demeanor swapped out for that of a practiced physician. “Your middle and—wait—” He took my ring finger and bent it up ever so slightly.

It freaking _hurt._

Still, I remembered SCO— _their_ techniques for managing pain, and I took a deep breath, staring off in space as he manipulated my hand to see what was wrong. My eye twitched, but otherwise, nothing showed on my face.

“You’re a tough cookie, Jaguar,” Bear said, pulling out an ACE bandage. “I can’t tell for sure without an X-ray, but I think your middle and ring finger knuckles are fractured. They’ll heal in a couple weeks as long as you don’t punch anymore walls,” he said with a pointed look at me.

“Sure,” I muttered, flexing my hand. It felt better wrapped, but the ache was still very much there.

“Okay, rib time. Shirt off.”

Bear’s tone was light, but the cabin was silent after that.

“I’ll do that myself,” I said, forcing myself not to looking down.

“You could,” Bear conceded, pulling another roll of ACE bandages from his bag, “but the support wouldn’t be nearly as good as a trained professional doing it.”

“You’re hardly a trained professional,” Lion muttered, but he swung himself begrudgingly down from his bunk and stretched, hissing. “Why don’t you do mine first?”

I looked away, then. I knew he was just trying to delay the inevitable, but it wasn’t all that helpful.

“Lion,” Tiger said quietly, his voice low.

“It’s fine.”

His tone piqued my interest. I looked up, eyeing Lion’s movements as he sat down on Bear’s bed, opposite the cabin from me. With practiced ease, Lion slid his shirt off. Bear sat down beside him, eyes cold, and started wrapping his torso.

Lion had scars, too. Not as bad as mine, but…but bad.

Lining his shoulders were rows of raised burns—probably from cigarette butts, if I had to guess. Pale red and white slashes marred his back, stretching even below his waistline. They mostly faded into his skin, but you could see them clearly if you looked for them. On his front were a few cuts, scarred white against his skin. They weren’t horribly noticeable, but they weren’t inconspicuous, either.

Slowly, a lot of the scars disappeared under the wrappings, but Lion’s purpose was the same. I’d been uncomfortable—no, more like unwilling—to show them my scars again. To allow myself to feel that kind of humiliation again. They represented parts of myself and my past I wanted to bury forever, after all.

So Lion had shown me his first.

God, that guy was an amazing leader.

He slipped his shirt back over his head and smiled in my direction. I looked away. “My dad was a drunk, to put things simply. Ran away with my sister when I was sixteen; jumped between odd jobs and friends’ houses before I finally decided to go for Selection a few years ago after she got married. The rest is history,” he finished with a shrug.

I paused.

Geez, how could I go against _that_ display?

“I can’t…I can’t tell you where they’re from,” I prefaced, fisting my good hand.

Lion nodded. “Okay.”

Heaving a breath and closing my eyes, I took off my shirt and waited.

The only things that happened next were Tiger’s glance, Lion’s smile, and Bear’s ministrations as he wrapped my ribs with clinical detachment. I felt heat flaming in my cheeks and neck and ears, the blanket fisted in my good hand for all I was worth, and it had nothing to do with the pain.

Bear wrapped them gently, trying not to jostle me too much as he tightened the fabric around my waistline. It was smooth going until he reached halfway up my chest, fastening the wrap tightly with a pin. His eyes lingered on the quarter-sized scar just above my heart.

“Jaguar—”

“I can’t tell you where it’s from,” I repeated, shaking my head. My hands were shaking. I was utterly exposed, and so utterly vulnerable, and I hated it with every fiber of my being. “Don’t ask. Please.”

Tiger’s eyes had slid over, and so had Lion’s, at the tone of his voice. They saw the same thing.

Tiger’s eyes widened—a bit out of character for him—in time as Lion’s darkened.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Lion conceded, “but that doesn’t look like something you get just hanging around.”

I tugged on my shirt, feeling extraordinarily better with my body covered. “It wasn’t.”

Lion sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Kid, I…look, I get it. You don’t know us very well yet, and that’s fine. When you do…” he shrugged. “We’ll listen. Yeah?”

Hesitantly, I nodded. I figured that was the best I was going to get given the circumstances. “Okay.”

Bear looked around, eyes settling on Tiger. “Your turn, Tiger. Then I’m going back to sleep and none of you can stop me.”

“I sure as hell can, pipsqueak,” Tiger growled, shoving Bear down on his bed with a thump. “You need to wrap yours too, dimwit. Gimme that.” He snatched the bandages out of Bear’s hand and set to work on the medic, much to Bear’s chagrin.

“Why do you always call me names?” Bear whined. “I’m like a foot taller than you. _Ow_!”

Tiger smacked him on the back of the head. “Height didn’t save you from that.”

“Tiger, you’re supposed to be fixing him,” Lion cajoled, but there was a smile in his voice.

I smiled faintly and laid down, tugging the covers over my shoulders and burrowing into the blankets. It felt nice to not be expected to get up and do anything for a day. The sounds of the other three teasing each other was still loud in my ears, but it wasn’t the worst sound to fall asleep to.

I drifted off, relishing the feeling of warmth. And I could be kind of sure, at least for today, that I was…somewhat safe.

Never completely safe. That kind of thinking would get me killed.

But somewhat was a step in the right direction.

…

I woke a few hours later, stretching, and saw a plate on the table at the front of the room, piled high with questionable food from the mess. My brow furrowed…that kind of worried me. Usually, I woke at the slightest noise, especially the sound of a door. Had I really slept through someone coming and going out of the creaky old cabin?

I was getting too comfortable here.

“We thought you’d be hungry,” Tiger’s voice startled me from his bunk, and _dammit_ , I did _not_ need to be startled anymore today. “It’s shit as usual, though.”

“Thanks,” I said, claiming the plate and sitting back on my bunk. I spooned some of the stuff into my mouth, regretting it instantly, but I forced myself to keep eating. Bloody hell, this was some awful food.

“Lion and Bear went for a walk,” he said, flipping a page in his book. It was in German. “Bear was getting stir-crazy, so the resident babysitter took him out.”

I hummed in acknowledgement, continuing to eat.

“What did you think?” Tiger asked quietly, and it was a new tone from the man; I’d never heard him sound so…hesitant. “About Lion’s scars.”

I stilled, looking down. I was glad Tiger couldn’t see me from where I was hidden by Lion’s top bunk, leaning against the wall behind the head of my own bed. “That he’s seen some shit, too. And that he’s…a damn good leader.”

Tiger snorted, then chuckled quietly. “Yeah. Yeah, you’ve got that right.”

I fished a book out of my duffle after I finished eating—it was a book in Russian Ian had given me after one of our trips, about a compilation of Russian folk tales. Tiger and I read in silence. The unspoken companionship was…nice.

Nice, and…uncomfortable for me.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“We’re back,” Bear yelled, kicking the door open with a grin.

I’d heard their footsteps creaking on the steps outside, so I was expecting it. Tiger, though, jumped out of his skin, damn near falling off the bunk, and threw his book at Bear. “Damn you. You’re _trying_ to kill me.”

Lion followed close behind, shutting the door carefully behind him. “Well, you’re quite fragile, Tiger.”

Tiger flipped him off. I smiled.

“Now that we’re all semi-functioning, let’s play a card game or something,” Bear said, fishing a stack of cards out of his duffle. “I don’t want to sit around all day.”

“Poker?” Lion suggested, sitting down cross-legged at the table in the open space at the front of the cabin. “We haven’t played in a while. I think I have some chocolate left from my sister…” He poked around in his duffle bag before smirking. “Yep, I got it.”

He pulled out a bag of candy and tossed it on the table. I snorted. Geez, they were just like primary-schoolers.

“Well, shit, I have to play if I have a shot at getting some of that,” Tiger conceded, a predatory grin on his face.

“Tiger, you suck at poker,” Bear said with a grin. “This is gonna be like taking candy from a baby.”

“You _are_ taking candy from a baby,” Lion joked.

Tiger cussed at him, and they laughed.

I smiled slightly, turning a page in my book. They were ridiculous. If the British could see their elite soldiers now…

“Jaguar, you coming?”

I started at my name, peering over my book. It was Lion who’d spoken, and he was looking at me expectantly. Bear wasn’t, making a big show of shuffling the cards, but I could tell he was paying attention. Tiger was looking at me, too.

“I—uh, I’ll pass.”

An automatic response. An attempt to distance myself.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

This unit—my _life_.

I deserved more, didn’t I? I’d _earned_ more.

I caught a helpless shrug from Lion and Tiger’s pinched expression, Bear’s slumped shoulders.

_Screw it_.

I—

I deserved to be happy too, _dammit_. I deserved that much.

It was all my fault. Not my parents and Ian—I’d had nothing to do with their deaths, and I wasn’t so egotistical as to think I did—but…Jack, Yassen, S-Sabina…even bloody _Ash_ …were all undeniably at least partially my fault.

But I was sixteen years old and damn the whole bloody world, even after my mistakes—things I’d done that I’d been undoubtedly pushed into doing—I deserved to be _bloody_ happy.

I at least deserved a chance.

Making a show of sighing, closing my book and putting it down, I sat up, minding my ribs. I shot them a smirk, saying, “It wouldn’t be much of a game if I did.”

Tiger eyed me, grinning. “Those are some fighting words, brat.”

I limped over, plopping myself down at the unoccupied corner of the table. “Then I guess I’ll have to put my money where my mouth is. Deal me in, Bear.”

Bear laughed, dealing the hand, and Lion smirked at me.

“None of you are getting my candy,” Lion said calmly, lighting a cigarette and spreading his cards in his hand. “I hope you’ve made your peace with that.”

“Tiger isn’t, but I think Jaguar and I have a shot,” Bear said, eyeing the chocolates with nothing short of lust.

“Brats,” Tiger scoffed, propping his chin in his hand. “Jaguar, your move.”

I had the Queen of hearts and a three of spades in my hand. On the table were the Queen of diamonds, the six of hearts, and the three of clubs.

I kept my poker face, but I had a damn good shot at a full house with that lineup. “I raise.”

“Already?” Bear complained, looking at his pot. “Geez, you’re hardcore.”

The game continued on. Unsurprising, I won. Tiger lost miserably (as expected; the man couldn’t keep a poker face to save his life) and Bear was just barely ahead of him. Lion gave me some trouble, but he’d expected me not to see through his bluffs. Which, of course, I did.

They demanded a rematch. Well, Lion did. He really prized his sister’s chocolate.

We ended up playing for the rest of the day and splitting the candy evenly among us, though Lion and I were the only ones to ever actually win a round. The day was…nice. Enjoyable, even.

_I didn’t come looking for a family_. I’d been honest with Lion. I didn’t.

I had a feeling, though—dare I say a hope—that I may had found the beginnings of one anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO much for reading!

Well, the day was finally here. Active duty.

I shouldn’t have been so nervous. I _lived_ in active duty.

“Ready, rookie?” Lion asked, tousling my hair before I could stop him. Bloody hated it when he did that, and he knew it.

I glared in his direction. “Sure. No big deal.”

“See? Told you he’d be fine. Tiger, you owe me twenty.”

Tiger rolled his eyes, and I smirked. “What, still no faith in me?”

“I don’t care how many bloody headshots you shoot, and I don’t care how many dumbass lieutenants you spook, and I don’t care that you’re officially in the unit. Until I see you in action, I’m not buying a thing.”

I huffed a laugh. “Fair enough.”

“Oi,” the Sergeant called from the front of the cabin with the briefing rooms. “Quit lollygagging, damn gossiping teenagers. Get in here.”

We sped up. An angry Sergeant Callaway wasn’t someone to mess with.

The briefing room was a step up from the other cabins, with oak paneling and a sophisticated smartboard, real chairs instead of folding chairs and a mahogany table in the center. We sat in the offered chairs behind the table, Sergeant Callaway in front of the projection. Another man stood towards the corner, holding a briefcase and waiting expectantly.

“Alright, men,” the Sergeant said, flicking his eyes to me, “and boy.”

Tiger coughed, but it sounded like he hid a snort. I fought to keep from rolling my eyes.

“I’m giving you something simple for your first mission to test the waters as a new unit,” he said, suddenly all business. “You’ll be transporting a package to testify against a terrorist we’ve captured. You’ll be transporting him from Paris to Kiev. The drive time is about twenty-four hours; you’ll stop in Warsaw for the night with the package. It’s fifteen hours from Paris to Warsaw, so you’ll drive in shifts. Lion, you’re on point. Tiger, you’ll be negotiating with the locals, should the need arise, but I’d like you to keep that to a minimum. Bear, visit the medical barracks after this; they’re putting a kit together for you. Jaguar, visit the armory for the unit’s weapons.

“You’ll be provided a standard military Jeep with the usual bells and whistles; Jaguar, the others will fill you in. Now, the package.”

Displayed on the screen flickered to life the image of a man grinning at the camera, in a striped jumpsuit with an identification number in his hands. He reminded me of a shark, the way his teeth were bared. His eyes were dark and small, and the look of him made me altogether uncomfortable. It felt like I’d seen him somewhere before.

But that was Alex. Matthew wouldn’t be creeped out by a picture, so I couldn’t let it show.

Besides, it would just give the others more fuel to treat me like a kid.

“Frederick ‘Slasher’ Hollis is a piece of work, and that’s putting it lightly. Spent a number of years as a mercenary with multiple groups, and has dappled in undercover work for multiple terrorist organizations. The crimes against him are endless. Terrorism, domestic and otherwise, murder, rape, theft…you name it, he’s done it. He’s made a deal with the higher ups to exchange information on the organizations he’s worked with to escape the death penalty and get a couple extra benefits in prison. You’re to escort him safely to Kiev, where you’ll hand him off to Ukrainian ambassadors to be held there until the trial is arranged.”

I cast a slight glance to the others, gauging their reactions. Bear seemed on edge, fidgeting in his seat, while Tiger was the exact opposite, stock still and intent on the information on the screen. Lion’s hand was against his chest, and it took me a moment to figure out he was fiddling with a cross hanging around his neck. I’d seen it before, but never given it much thought.

The Sergeant started talking again, and I refocused on the board.

“This is your route,” he said, an image of Europe popping up on the screen with a thick red line weaving across the land. “There are marked places to stop for gas and food, and the inn you’ll be staying it is there as well. You will not stop anywhere else for any reason short of a global catastrophe. Are we clear?”

A chorus of “Yes, sir”s filled the room. The Sergeant nodded, satisfied.

“Good. Now Agent Jackson will fill you in on what you’ll be up against.”

The word “Agent” caught my attention and I slouched down in my seat as much as possible without being noticeable, angling my face in a way that I could mostly stay in the shadows. God, if he recognized me here…

I couldn’t even listen to most of what he said. My heart was thumping erratically in my chest, and I had to sit on my hands for the rest of the briefing to convince myself they weren’t shaking.

Agent Jackson, though, didn’t seem to know me, or if he did, he didn’t show it. He went through a list of enemies seeking to capture or assassinate the target and their level of danger, pointing out spots along our route we’d need to be especially cautious on.

When the meeting was over and the agent stepped out, I felt as though I could finally breathe.

“Dismissed,” the Sergeant said. “You have an hour to pack and be at the gate. It’s an undercover operation, so pack plainclothes and necessities. Nothing more than a rucksack for each of you. Jaguar, stay a moment.”

The panic was back.

“Yes, sir?” I said as soon as the others had left the room. There was a waver in my voice.

“How are you feeling about this?” He asked, shuffling papers on the table before giving me a glance.

My confusion must have shown on my face. “Fine, sir. Bit nervous, but I reckon that’s normal, sir.”

He nodded, an odd expression on his face. “How are you doing with your unit?”

I hesitated. “Alright, sir. We…get on fine.”

He sighed. “That’s convincing.”

I assumed it was sarcasm, but his unchanging expression made it a bit hard to be certain.

“Well, good luck to you. You’ve got good men watching your back, but I want you especially to be careful.”

Oh, God. Did he know something? Had he found some inconsistency in my file, did something tip him off…what if he made me leave? Was he watching—

“This guy, Hollis…he’s sadistic. He’s very dangerous, and very skilled, and for him, the younger the better.” He looked up, his eyes serious. “You understand what I’m saying? He may say things that…unnerve you, or get under your skin. You can’t let it get to you.”

Oh. So it…it wasn’t anything about…

Oh, thank _God_.

I tried to hide my relief. What he said unnerved me, yeah, but that was buried beneath the relief of knowing I hadn’t been discovered. “Um…th-thank you for the warning, sir. I’ll be on my guard around him. Is…there anything else?”

“No. Just be careful. Make sure everyone gets back safely.”

“Yes, sir.” That I could agree with.

I felt the Sergeant’s eyes lingering on me as I left, but I decided to pay it no mind.

There was no way he knew. I’d checked the fake file myself, twice and three times…it was foolproof.

I was okay.

It was enough to calm my racing heart, for a moment.

…

We took a ferry from Hastings to _Boulogne-san-Mer_ , where we continued inland by railway. The ride was silent for the most part, though Bear and Lion played a rowdy game of poker, at one point. Tiger read a book, casting a tepid glare at Bear and Lion when they got too loud for him.

For my part, I leaned against the window, resting my chin on my hand and watching the countryside roll by. It reminded me of a holiday I’d taken with Ian and Jack once.

_“Alex!” Jack called as I crested one of the many rolling green hills, admiring the stretch of serene landscape in front of me. “Alex, don’t wander off like that. I can’t keep up with you, and you know it.”_

_At twelve, I was still oblivious to the realities behind Ian’s jobs, but I knew he was away often enough that a holiday like this…with him, and Jack and me, just the three of us, was rare. Ian came up behind Jack, smiling at me, and I beamed at him._

_It was so nice to spend time together. I’d missed him._

_“What do you think, Al?” He asked, tousling my hair when he reached me, dropping his arm around my shoulders. “What do you want for dinner tonight? There’s a little authentic place a bit of a drive away. Jack, sound good?”_

_I wrinkled my nose, looking up at him. At twelve, I was a little short for my age, and he looked so big. So…invincible. “You’re not going to make me try duck again, are you?”_

_He laughed, then, and squeezed my shoulder. He was always so serious and severe…times like this, when he was carefree and affectionate, I felt like I really had…a father. No, a…a dad, in him, despite everything. “If you really hated it that much…”_

_“It was awful,” I complained, tugging on Jack’s hand. “What do you want, Jack?”_

_She pretended to think, her eyes twinkling. “I dunno…Ian, maybe he’d take more to quail than duck.”_

_Ian barked a laugh, his shoulders relaxed. “I think you might be onto something, Jack.”_

_They smiled at me, and I said something about how I was pretty sure that would be just as bad, and they laughed again. We ended up eating something with rice and beef, some local dish, and I was content with that. After that we got ice cream and toured the streets, where Ian made me practice my French with the locals. I stumbled over some pronunciations, blushing furiously, but he nudged me each time and encouraged me to try again._

_When we were picking up a couple things, Jack tried to ask one of the bazaar workers where she could find avocados, and the man thought she was asking for a lawyer, and promptly told her to beat it._

_It was a good trip._

It was a bitter memory.

“Jaguar!”

I started at my name, turning to face Lion, who had his hand on my shoulder. His eyes were concerned, and Tiger and Bear were staring, too. “You alright, mate? You’ve been zoned out for ages.”

“Yeah, sorry,” I said, recovering quickly. “I’ve been around this area before, I was just looking for something familiar.”

“Really?” Bear asked, looking out the window. “It seems nice. Come out on holiday?”

This was stretching into dangerous territory. Even if it was the smallest thing, revealing anything about my past, real or fake, felt just a bit too much like tempting fate. “I suppose, yeah.”

“Who’d you come with?” Lion asked, shuffling the cards in front of him. “Parents, or…?”

“Just family,” I said, hoping by remaining vague they’d drop it. My heart was pounding again. “Actually, I need to use the loo.”

Before anyone could protest, I scooted by Lion, heading towards the back of the railway car. It was about a four hour journey, and it wasn’t a popular line. There were only two other passengers in our car, a man and a woman. The woman had a bundle in her arms, and was cooing softly to it; it was silent, so I assumed it was a sleeping baby.

I headed into the loo and stood there for a moment, my back against the door.

To be honest, the Sergeant’s words had unnerved me more than I cared to admit. I hadn’t told the others about it. I figured if the Sergeant had wanted them to know, he’d have told them, as well; though I reckoned it was more for my benefit, than anything. I’ll admit, I’d be a little embarrassed if the others knew.

I splashed some water on my face to wake myself up, trying to push the thoughts from my mind. Something felt off. I’d been doing this long enough to know to trust my gut, but I just couldn’t tell what was wrong.

It was something I’d seen. Something was nagging me, and I knew I’d seen it. So what…?

I opened the door and was making my way back to my seat when I realized it. Well, belatedly so.

It was the couple. What kind of couple with a newborn on a four-hour journey didn’t have any luggage?

As soon as I saw them again, and as soon as I came to that realization, they attacked.

I assume they’d been waiting for one of us to move, to single one of us out and catch the others by surprise. The woman, in one fluid motion, tossed the bundle aside (no wonder the baby had been so silent, it was just bundle of cloth) and lunged herself at me expertly, while the man whipped out a pistol and turned it on the others.

I couldn’t rely on them to react quickly enough; they were at least three rows down. By the time they saw the gun, one of them would have a bullet in their heads.

I ducked the woman’s roundhouse kick and vaulted myself towards the man, kicking the gun out of his grip, sending it sliding down the wooden floor. He growled and sent a fist my way. I barely dodged to the side, and narrowly missed the knife the woman thrust at me from behind, feeling it slice through my windbreak and leave a line of blood on my bicep.

The others had since noticed the commotion and had leapt out of their seats, coming to join the fight.

We outnumbered them two-to-one, and they knew it. They knew to have a shot against those three, they had to finish quickly with me.

Well, turns out I felt the same. Scooping up the discarded bundle in a somersault, I grabbed a single cloth and righted myself, my back to my approaching teammates. When the man next threw a fist at me (direct and deadly; these people were very well-trained) I dodged and wrapped the cloth tightly around his wrist, using it to twist the arm behind his back. I was strong, but I was small, and he probably had one hundred pounds on me, so I needed the extra support.

He reached for me with his other hand, but the angle was too awkward for him to grab anything. I spun him in front of me as a shield just as the woman threw her knife with pinpoint accuracy; it hit the man in his shoulder, which would’ve been my bloody _head_.

He howled in pain and I shoved him forward into the woman, who looked a bit startled after hitting her own partner, using her surprise to catch her off guard. She tossed the man out of her way, but by the time she did that, I was already running at her. She anticipated it and aimed a deadly kick at my head, but I dropped into a football slide I’d used as a forward more times than I could count, plucking the knife from the injured man’s shoulder and slicing her Achilles tendon in one swift motion. She collapsed with a howl of pain, clutching at the injured appendage.

The man had recovered enough to fumble for the gun, and sent a shot off that whizzed wide, just by my ear. Knowing that if I took the time to stand and approach him I’d be well and truly screwed, I turned my body and pushed off the bench, sliding across the wood towards him, pressing a hand into his wound as I wrestled the gun from him.

He screamed in pain, and I managed to tear the gun from his bloody fingers, slamming it into his temple. He went limp and still in just a second.

Panting, and shaking, I got to my knees, momentarily mesmerized by the blood on my hands. The woman was still groaning behind me, spitting curses, and I dimly registered Tiger walking past me and knocking her out. I came to myself in a jolt, standing unsteadily.

“We need to go,” I said quickly, brushing past a stunned Bear and grabbing my bag from the overhead compartment, throwing the others at their respective owners. “There will be more. We’re sitting ducks here, and civilians may get involved if any more of them show up.”

“Wait, Jaguar—slow down, dammit!” Lion yelled, shouldering his bag despite his words. “Calm down for a second. How do you know there’s more?”

“There’s _always_ more,” I said impatiently, grabbing the gun the agent had used and wiping it down before tossing it out the window. It had my prints on it, and I didn’t want someone to find it in the car and conduct an investigation thinking we’d attacked the place, then have our faces all over the news while we tried to conduct an undercover operation.

“How long until we reach the next station?” I asked breathlessly, tossing a ziptie to Tiger, who fumbled to catch it. “Tie her up.”

“Two or three minutes?” Lion answered uncertainly, watching with wary eyes. “Our stop isn’t for half an hour—”

“We’re getting off here,” I said, zip tying the man’s arms behind his back. “Somebody help me? We need to store them in the bathroom. They won’t be discovered until someone from the French intelligence agency can come to collect them. Dammit, we’ll need to clean up the blood—”

“Jaguar, you’re not making sense—” Lion said, grabbing my shoulder.

I realized I was panicking. It was sudden realization, and it forced me to take stock of the situation. The others were staring at me like I’d grown another head, regarding with suspicion and concern. I was shaky, and unsteady, and I realized it was because this was the first time I’d been in a fight—a real fight, with guns and knives and the probability of death—in several months. Though the surge of adrenaline was familiar, and horrifyingly comforting, I wasn’t used to it anymore.

Damn it all.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, pausing in my actions for just a moment. “I’m sorry, I know I’m not making any sense. I know you’re point on this mission, and I respect that, I really do. Just—just listen to me, just for a while, alright? I—I know what I’m doing. Work with me.” I took in a breath, keeping my eyes on the growing bloodstain beneath the man. “Please.”

There was a pregnant pause, with only the unconscious man’s moans and grinding of the wheels along the track. I busied myself trying to wipe the blood off my hands on my undershirt, but it was just spreading.

“Alright,” Lion said, his expression betraying nothing. “Alright, we’ll follow you for now. But in return, we expect an explanation. Is that fair?”

I flinched a little, avoiding his eyes. “It can’t be…full.”

Lion sighed. “We’ll take what we can get. What do you need?”

I pushed my worries and anxieties to the farthest corner of my mind, letting my mind go into hyper-awareness as I surveyed the damage. The blood was still fresh, and there wasn’t much of it. The man was lying on his back, and the knife wound hadn’t gone _through_ him, so it was only a small pool of blood.

“Bear, lock both the doors at the end of the car,” I said, eyes flitting around to every inch of the car, looking for things I could use. “Tiger, Lion, make sure they’re secure and gag them, then shove them in the loo.” I pulled out a shirt I didn’t particularly like from my rucksack and cut it in two with the knife, handing a strip to each of them. “Use those to bind the wounds as best you can. We’ll get in touch with the DRM as soon as we can; they should be fine until they get medical treatment.”

I pulled another shirt (which, unfortunately, I did like) out of my bad and mopped up the blood as best I could. There was little enough that I managed to get most of it up; the rest looked like someone had spilled something, and it had stained. Only a UV light or a trained eye would reveal it as a bloodstain.

Not a moment too soon, the train screeched to halt in the station, a pleasant French voice announcing our arrival at _Argenteuil_. Hastily zipping my windbreak and shoving my hands in my pockets to hide the blood, I nodded to the others to disembark, and hastily stepped off the train into the bustling station.

My eyes quickly scanned the platform, but I didn’t see anything readily suspicious. I walked as quickly as I could without being suspicious towards the exit, immediately hailing a taxi. Ian and Jack and I had stopped in this town briefly, and I remembered a safe little inn that was mostly off the map and off the books where we could regroup.

“ _Excusez-moi,_ ” I asked the taxi driver as the four of us piled into the backseat. It had dual-facing benches, so we could all fit, though it was a bit of a squeeze with Bear’s height. “ _Combien est le tarif à l’Hôtel Luna_?” (Excuse me. How much is the fare to the Luna Hotel?)

The driver looked in his rearview mirror, his surprise evident. “ _Euh…une trentaine d’euros? Ton francais est tres bien. Est-ce que tu es en vacation?”_ (Uh…about thirty Euros? Your French is very good. Are you on vacation?)

 _“Oui,”_ I lied with a smile. “ _Merci beaucoup_.” (Yes. Thank you very much.)

He nodded and smiled, pulling out into traffic and rolling up the divider to give us some privacy. I slumped back against the seat, feeling my adrenaline crash. My arm ached, and I winced, putting a hand over the wound.

“Oi,” Bear said, concerned eyes narrowing in my direction. “Are you hurt?”

I figured it would be futile at this point to lie. “She snagged me with the knife. It’s not deep.”

Conveniently (for him) he was sitting next to me and took my arm carefully, prying my hand away. “Can you take off your windbreaker?”

“Bear, leave it,” I said, shrugging him off as politely as I could manage. “You can look when we get to the hotel. I’d like to be somewhere safe before we worry about that. It’s not bad.”

Although clearly unhappy, he let me be.

It was a tense taxi ride.

…

We checked into a room for the night on the fifth floor. I liked this place. We’d stayed here for one night, Jack and Ian and I, and it was shady in some ways, but cozy and personal in others. I wondered for the longest time why Ian had let us stay there, because despite its charming personality, the place was addicting to prostitutes and drug dealers, who did a lot of underground business in the attached nightclubs.

In hindsight, dealing with terrorists and undercover spies as much as he did, there was probably nothing to worry about for him.

“Lion,” I said as we keyed into our room. “Can you call the Sergeant, or whoever the contact is? Tell him we can still do the mission, but he or the DRM may want to send another unit. I don’t think the threat assessment ruled the mission as dangerous as it actually is.”

I tossed my rucksack beside the bed nearest the door and shrugged out of my windbreaker, hissing in pain as the wound on my arm pulled. I was sore, and exhausted, but I knew sleep would be elusive, at best.

Lion had used his burner to call the DRM liaison on the way and inform them of the assassins on the train, and they’d been swiftly taken into custody within the hour. I was fairly confident no one had followed us to the hotel, so just for a moment, I let myself relax, if only a fraction.

Bear and Tiger slipped wordlessly into the room, and was right there as soon as the door closed, engaging the deadlock and the other lock above that, letting myself breathe. It was odd; I didn’t think I’d ever gone so long without Tiger or Bear saying something, but they seemed to be going with it. That was good. That was easier than the alternative.

“ _Sit_ ,” Bear ordered suddenly, pointing to a chair with angry eyes. “You’ve been bleeding for forty minutes. Don’t think I didn’t see. So help me, I will _drug_ your arse if you don’t let me look at you.”

Despite the situation, I managed a humorless chuckle, sinking into the seat and rolling up the bloody sleeve of my t-shirt, exposing the jagged slash. I was startled at the sight of it. Damn, it was worse than I thought.

Tiger looked over, eyes pinched. “Not bad, my arse,” he muttered.

“I…didn’t think it was that bad,” I said honestly as Bear grabbed the medical kit from his rucksack, opening it and sterilizing his hands.

“Well, you know, that’s normally why you have the Medic take a look, moron,” he griped. Tiger was right; Bear _was_ neurotic when it came to injuries.

While Bear prepared to disinfect the wound, a small flask appeared in front of my face. I looked up to see Tiger waiting expectantly. “That shit’s gonna sting like hell,” he said, waving the flask for emphasis. “Best numb yourself a bit while you can.”

“You know I’m underage,” I said with a small smirk, grabbing the bottle and taking a long drag.

The whiskey burned going down, and I pulled a face as I swallowed, handing the flask back to him. “That’s strong.”

“That’s the idea,” he said, screwing the cap back on and throwing it on the bed. He was right; it warmed my stomach and I felt my tense muscles relax slightly.

Without warning, Bear pressed a wet cloth to the wound, and Tiger was right. It stung like the damn fires from hell.

I gripped the armrest to keep from making any noise, my face pinching at the pain, and I stared at a piece of abstract art on the wall that bloody belonged in a child’s art portfolio.

“Almost…there we go,” Bear said quietly, peeling the bloody cloth away, fresh blood running down my arm. “I think you can get away with four or five stitches. Want some painkillers?”

“Think the whiskey did the trick,” I muttered through grit teeth. “Just do it.”

Bear nodded, his eyes far away. “Jaguar, you want to tell me why I’m looking at another bullet scar?”

Caught off guard, I peered at my arm. Oh. I’d forgotten about that one. “No.”

The word was clipped, and there was no room for argument.

Bear sighed, and Tiger’s eyes were angry. “How many times have you been shot, kid?”

I looked away, not quite able to face them. “…three.”

The fact that I was willing to volunteer that information without so much as a word of protest made me realize I shouldn’t have drunk so much whiskey. I quickly decided to keep my mouth shut for the rest of the night.

Tiger swore under his breath. “Damn pincushion, you are,” he muttered.

Bear didn’t say anything. I was grateful.

Bear was good at his job. He did the stitches quickly, neatly, and tightly, closing the wound completely. He taped some gauze over it and then bound the wound tightly to stop any leftover bleeding.

“All set,” he said with a disarming smile. That wasn’t right. We weren’t close enough for him to smile at me like that. “Sorry I don’t have a sticker to give you.”

I scoffed. “And you call yourself a medic.”

Lion had come back in a minute ago, setting the phone on the nightstand and sitting on one of the beds. “Sergeant Callaway is working with the DRM to secure an extra escort for the transport tomorrow. They’ve added this place into our plans, and are going to send a car to bring us straight to the meetup in Paris around noon. We should get some rest soon; we’ll take turns on watch.”

Tiger nodded, and Bear grabbed his toiletries from his bag, claiming the bathroom. Lion shot me a look and said, “You alright?”

I gave a tense smile, holding up my newly bandaged arm. “Fit as a fiddle.”

He scoffed, smiling a bit. “Sure. I know you’re tired, but…want to tell us what happened today?”

I sighed, looking away. I’d been waiting for that. “I don’t know what you’re asking. What do you want me to say?”

“How about…why, when you’re nineteen and this is your first mission, do you fight and act like some intelligence veterans I’ve seen?”

I flinched. I don’t know if they saw. “I don’t know what you want from me. I’ve told you I can’t…I can’t explain things. It’s not the answer you want, but it’s the only one I can give. I’m not going to apologize for it.”

I thought Tiger would start yelling at me. I thought Bear would remain silent with a worried look and unsteady hands. I thought Lion would look disappointed. That’s what always happened when I refused to volunteer information.

“Okay,” Lion said, his voice patient. It threw me off. They should be yelling at me. They should be cursing me and asking why I didn’t want to share things. “I’m sorry. We’ve been asking nothing but big questions, because you seem intent on hiding everything, and…well, you can’t blame us, mate. You’re mysterious. We’d like to know.”

I eyed him warily, absently rubbing my arm. It ached. “But…”

“But you can learn to trust people gradually,” Tiger finished, crossing his arms. “I don’t like it. I’m not patient enough for it. But it looks like you’ve got a shit-ton of baggage, so I’m make an exception.”

This was unsettling. I didn’t like it at all. It felt like…I was being tricked into something. Like they were trying to trick me into giving something away.

Lion looked earnest, leaning forward and maintaining eye contact. Tiger was more closed off, but he was listening attentively. Despite the sounds of Bear brushing his teeth, the bathroom door was ajar, and I knew he was listening.

“Don’t play me for a fool,” I snapped, the panic getting to me. “If you want to ask something, ask, but don’t…don’t try to trick me into saying something.”

Lion furrowed his eyebrows. “I wasn’t trying to trick you into anything. I was just going to start with some smaller questions, ones you might feel more comfortable answering.”

I tensed up, looking away. Damn me and my paranoid mind. I ruined everything.

“What’s your favorite color?” Lion asked tentatively, quietly.

There was a pause for a long second. I could not answer. I could maintain my silence on anything and everything about me, and keep these relationships professional, cordial. I could do that.

But I’d be kidding myself if I thought that was possible anymore.

I didn’t _trust_ them. Not with my life or my past. But I…appreciated them. And their willingness to work with me despite my secrecy. I enjoyed the quick-witted banter, and the concerned looks, no matter how much they unsettled me. I enjoyed it when Tiger attempted to get to know me, even with his stand-offish attitude. It was funny how he got flustered when I called him out on it.

I enjoyed Bear’s energy and his ability to make me laugh. I appreciated his presence and his ability to lighten the mood when things got too tense, and I appreciated how he treated me as an equal, and not as a kid.

I appreciated Lion’s kindness and his steady presence. I enjoyed how he’d sometimes crack jokes that had Bear laughing for minutes at a time, and how he’d just grin afterwards watching him. I enjoyed how protective he seemed of his unit-members, and I was…grateful that that included me. I appreciated his leadership skills and his patience with me when I couldn’t open up.

I had wanted to avoid all of these things, but I hadn’t been able to.

I wanted to…let down my walls. Finally.

I couldn’t, though, so…I settled for answering.

“…blue,” I said quietly. “Like…like clear ocean water. That blue.”

A pause. “Nice. Mine’s blue too. Though I prefer lighter shades.” That was Lion.

“Mine’s yellow,” Bear volunteered, poking his head out the door. The words were garbled through a mouthful of foam, but he grinned anyways. “Like on a really sunny day.”

I managed a smile. Bear was like a kid, sometimes.

“Red,” Tiger said gruffly. “I don’t give a damn what shade.”

I huffed a laugh, still looking at the abstract art on the wall. I noticed it had a shade of blue I liked in it, and traced the swirling line around the picture.

“What’s something you’re afraid of?” Lion asked, leaning back. “I’m particularly afraid of spiders. They scare the bejesus out of me, I tell you.”

“I _hate_ planes,” Bear volunteered, now foamless, with a towel around his neck. “God, it’s flying in a tin can of death. Can’t stand them.”

I looked at Tiger expectantly, raising an eyebrow when he remained silent. “What? I’m bloody fearless.”

“S’that why you jumped ten feet in the air the other day when I tricked you into thinking there was a snake slithering around your feet?” Bear asked with a cocky grin. Tiger flipped him off.

I appreciated this. It was a heavy question, but they were giving light-hearted answers. I could be as serious or as vague as I wanted to be.

I went through my list of fears, searching for a suitable answer. There were…several. Jellyfish, drowning, doctors (surgeons especially), guns (I used them, and I was damn good, but that didn’t mean I bloody liked them), planes, vaccines, hot air balloons, fireworks, space, bombs…bloody hell, naming all of them would take a year.

“Well,” I said, shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t like jellyfish.”

“God, I hate those little buggers,” Bear said, collapsing onto the bed next to Tiger. “Sting like hell. You ever been stung?”

I shook my head. “No, just…had a bad experience with one, was all.” I stood quickly, realizing I’d said too much. “I’m going to wash off.” I grabbed mt bag and headed to the bathroom.

I locked the bathroom door.

Taking a deep, shaking breath, I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying to slow my heart rate.

That had been…nice, and absolutely terrifying. I could feel myself becoming more comfortable with every second, and before I knew it, my life story was going to spill out of me.

Dammit, I wanted to let it all out. I _wanted_ to talk about everything with _someone_ , but I didn’t have that luxury. But…but keeping it all inside, letting it build and fester, the hatred and sorrow and terror and regret and agony…I was going to burst one day. Burst, or absolutely shut down.

I didn’t know which would be worse.

Mechanically, I washed the dried blood off my arms and hands, taking care to keep Bear’s meticulous bandage dry. I splashed some water on my face and changed my clothes, dressing in some black sweatpants and a long-sleeved V-neck. I brushed my teeth and ran my fingers through my hair, looking at myself in the mirror.

I looked…pale. Paler than I remembered.

Sure, I hadn’t been…sleeping, or eating much, but the blood loss was probably part of it.

Damn. I was a wreck.

I shook my head, scattering my thoughts. Shouldering my bag, I left the bathroom and beelined to the bed not occupied by Tiger and Bear, collapsing beside Lion and lying back. I was uncomfortable, to say the least, sleeping so close to someone else, but…but it couldn’t be helped. There were only two beds.

Tiger headed to the bathroom, and Lion eyed me as I slipped under the covers. “I’m going to take first watch. Sound okay?”

I paused, nodding, then sinking down against the pillows, exhaling slowly. God, I was tired. And it put me at ease to know I’d at least have a few hours of sleep without someone else too close to me.

I fell asleep quickly. I suppose I was more tired than I’d imagined, because I was sure I wouldn’t be able to sleep for ages. As I was drifting off, I distantly felt Lion pat my shoulder. I wondered when I’d started to be okay with people being able to touch me while I was so vulnerable. I wondered why I didn’t do anything.

But I was too tired, and something about this touch was…dare I say, safe. Comforting.

“You did good today,” Lion said quietly. I’m not sure if he meant for me to hear, because I was very nearly asleep. He might have thought I was. “Whatever you’re carrying, you don’t have to carry it alone.”

For some reason, those words were…very nice to hear.

I burrowed a bit further into the blankets subconsciously, feeling his hand leave my shoulder. For the first time in a long time, I slept well. Wonderfully, even. Deeply and peacefully.

There were no nightmares.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much, as always, for reading! Please leave a comment / Kudos if you want!

**A/N: Warning. There’s some suggestive language in this chapter, but nothing happens. If that triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please stay safe!**

I slept remarkably well. Better than I had in a really, really long time. I knew this for sure, because when I woke up, everyone else was already up and moving around.

That…had never happened. Especially not with them.

“He lives,” Bear joked, shoving something into his duffle. “We thought you were going to sleep all day.”

Blearily, I rolled over, glancing at the clock.

Holy shit. Had I really slept ten hours?

I even picked it up, waiting for it to change just so I knew it wasn’t broken. It wasn’t.

“Damn,” I muttered, rubbing my eyes. I was still tired. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Our car doesn’t get here for a few hours,” Lion said. “I was going to wake you in about half an hour if you weren’t up by then.”

I nodded, getting out of bed and setting my feet on the floor, rolling my shoulder. My arm was sore.

“Let me change your bandage before you do anything,” Bear said, reaching for his medical kit.

“No, I’ll shower first,” I said quickly, getting up. “Then you can.”

“Don’t take too long,” Tiger said gruffly, reading a book in the armchair. “I’m hungry.”

I scoffed. “Yes, your highness.”

He flipped me off.

I locked the bathroom door and undressed, peeling off Bear’s bandage. It was still a fresh wound, but it looked good, with no signs of infection.

I took a moment to look at my scars. It still unsettled me that they knew about them. I hadn’t shown them to anyone deliberately, not even…Jack, and _definitely_ not Sabina…

I sighed. I shouldn’t think about them. It just upset me.

Hopping in the shower, I washed my hair, noticing the color had faded a little, and my roots were beginning to show. That wasn’t good. I needed to re-dye it as soon as I was back at base, before someone noticed.

I finished quickly, dressing in some cargo pants and t-shirt, putting a towel around my shoulders so my hair didn’t soak into my collar. “Bear,” I said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Ready?” He asked, lugging over the med kit. Tiger was still reading, and Lion was on the phone.

“Perfect timing,” Lion said in my direction, turning the speaker into his ear. “Room service. Want anything?”

I tilted my head, considering, as Bear wet a piece of gauze with antiseptic. “Do they have _pain-au-chocolat_?”

Lion blinked. “Um…”

“A chocolate croissant,” I revised, smirking at his lost expression. “Want me to order?”

Lion gave a nervous laugh and handed me the phone, plus a list of everyone’s orders. “I’d ask Tiger, but he’s still learning French.”

“Oi. Watch it.” He grumbled from his armchair.

I laughed. “It’s alright. French was the last one I learned.”

Oh. That was…easy. Exposing that harmless piece of information about myself. It wasn’t supposed to be easy. When had it become easy?

“ _Bonjour_?” I said into the phone. “ _Oui, s’il vous plait. Je—”_ I cut myself off with a hiss, tightening my hand on the receiver. “ _Shit_ , Bear, _warn_ me,” I whispered, shutting my eyes against the sting. (Hello? Yes, please. I—)

“Sorry,” he said apologetically, smiling sheepishly. “I figured it would be better to do it when you weren’t expecting it.”

“What part of me makes you think I like surprises,” I grumbled, putting the phone back to my ear. “ _Euh, je suis desolee. Oui, je voudrais…”_ (Uh, I’m sorry. Yes, I’d like…)

I placed everyone’s order, and was told the wait would be twenty minutes. It was only 10:15 now, so we would have plenty of time before the car arrived, if everything went according to plan.

In line with my paranoid personality, I was a bit worried the food would be poisoned, but I’d deal with that when it arrived.

Bear finished disinfecting and re-wrapping my arm, nodding. “It doesn’t show any sign of infection, so that’s good. I’ll change the bandage again tonight, and then we should be okay to do it once a day from then on.”

I nodded, rolling my shoulder. It felt a lot better. “Thank you.”

He nodded with a smile, rising and returning the pack to his rucksack. “Food should be here in ten,” I said. Bear had been thorough with the bandage, so it had taken some time. I appreciated it.

I fetched a glass of water from the bathroom and put it on the center table, pulling a vial from my rucksack and pouring a drop in. It had been a parting gift from Smithers, capable of detecting any and all poison, no matter how little the trace. “When it gets here pinch a bit off and put it in here. If the water changes color after a couple minutes, it’s poisoned.”

I looked up to see them all giving me a particular deer-in-headlights look. “What?”

“Why would you think it’s poisoned?” Lion asked, setting his bag down beside the bed. “You said you trusted the inn.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I do. Some of the most famous and well-trusted restaurants in the world have been used as conduits for high-profile assassinations via poison, because it’s so hard to trace in a bustling kitchen. Someone can slip in claiming to be a new busboy, or cook, or waiter, and sprinkle some arsenic in whatever sauce you’re eating, and disappear again without anyone remembering their face.”

“You’re bloody terrifying,” Tiger said, giving me a look. “Who the hell thinks like that all the time?”

“Someone who wants to stay alive,” I shot back, feeling my hackles rise. “Don’t if you don’t want to. I’m going to.”

“Sorry, we’re just surprised,” Bear said, sitting down and tugging out a paperback. I noticed it was a medical journal. “None of us have really been on such an…I don’t know, intelligence-intensive mission. It’s weird.”

I faltered. “Um…”

“Don’t even bother,” Tiger grumbled. “I don’t care what you or your bloody file say, you’ve definitely been on a mission of some kind. Otherwise you wouldn’t do half the things you do.”

There was a knock on the door, saving me from answering. “They’re early,” I muttered. I pulled my handgun from my waist and pressed it firmly against the door, opening it a bit.

A middle-aged woman stood outside, pushing a cart. “Bonjour, monsieur,” she said politely, then remembered. “Ah…no, good morning.” Her voice was heavily accented. “I bring breakfast.”

I smiled wide, going for disarming. “Thank you. May we put the cart in the hall when we’re done?” I asked, enunciating clearly.

She obviously understood more than she spoke, because she nodded fervently. “Oui, of course! Enjoy.” She smiled and hurried back down the hallway. I set the gun on the table by the door and tugged the tray inside. It bore several dishes, with no sign of ill intent.

I spotted my chocolate croissant and took the plate, eyeing the others. “I don’t care one way or the other, but if you die, I’m leaving you.”

Bear snorted. “Sure. I’ll try your magic glass.”

I pinched a piece of my bread off and dropped it in, watching it sink to the bottom, and checked my watch. A minute and a half later, the water was clear.

“I’m safe,” I said, biting into the sweet pastry. I’d missed these. They were bloody _delicious_. “Bear?”

Tiger nor Lion had taken a bite of their food, waiting their turn. It turned out everyone was safe, which I’d much prefer to the alternative, but it did make me feel a bit stupid. Even though I knew quite well caution was necessary.

I only hoped the others would trust me enough to get us out of this mess alive.

…

We were picked up an hour and a half later by a nondescript Frenchman in a black taxi. The ride to the DRM headquarters (disguised as an office building) went smoothly, and we ascended the elevator to the briefing room and exchange site without incident.

I didn’t like elevators, either. I tapped my foot steadily in impatience until we reached the sixty-third floor.

We were led to a nice meeting room not unlike the briefing room at Brecon Beacons, only bigger. We took our seats at the end of the table, Lion at the head, and were instructed in accented English to wait for our DRM liaison and the French teams who would be assisting us with the transport.

“Would you care for some coffee or tea while you wait?” An assistant asked us politely, smiling.

“Two coffees,” Tiger said, eyeing Bear. “You do want one, right?”

“Of course,” Bear grinned. “Extra sugar, as always.”

“I’ll have tea,” Lion said with a smile.

She looked at me expectantly. “Water for me, please,” I said.

“Paranoid arse,” Tiger grumbled, but there was no heat behind it.

I rolled my eyes.

A few minutes later, after the drinks had arrived, eight men filed into the room. Though they were in plain clothes, it was obvious from their deliberate movements that they were soldiers, and good ones. Behind them trailed a man and a woman in suits.

“Good afternoon,” the woman said in accented English, smiling professionally. “I trust your journey here was uneventful?”

“The second half, anyways,” Lion replied with a knowing smile.

She nodded. “Of course. We were informed of the incident on the train, and have since worked with your Sergeant to adjust your travel plans accordingly.” Her English was very good, I noticed.

The lights dimmed. On instinct, I sat up straighter, but the far wall was illuminated shortly by a projection, showing a map of France.

She went through a detailed revision of the plan, which would increase our travel time to approximately 32 hours, broken up over three days; our route was almost entirely altered, and we were going quite a bit out of the way, even through a stretch of desert at one point. We would be acting under the guise of transporting illegal opioids seized in a drug raid to a disposal site in Ukraine.

Our unit and the package would be in the back of a sizeable delivery vehicle, which had been outfitted with dual facing seats on either side of the outer walls of the transport. Two men would driving our truck, while two men would be driving a standard military vehicle in front and the remaining four would be doing the same in the back, acting as a standard military escort.

“We’ve received permission from the Polish and German governments to transport the package with the added French security,” she assured. “You’ll leave in one hour. One block away is a loading dock for a local supermarket; the package will be loaded there in twenty minutes. Jules will lead you all there; he is our main liaison for this assignment.” One of the men up front nodded, giving a tight smile. “Are there any questions?”

I thought it a bit stupid to put the package in the most conspicuous vehicle. Better to have a dummy package enter the main vehicle and store him in the front; that would be the least likely place to hide him. However, I didn’t exactly want to ruin the peace, so I kept my mouth shut.

“No, Madame,” Lion said. “Thank you for working with us.”

She nodded. “Of course. I do have a couple more things.” She paused. “I do not know how much you’ve been told, but Hollis is a very dangerous man. There is a reason he is so highly regarded in the underworld. Not only is he skilled, but he is also very intelligent. He has been known to use psychology and his excellent ability to read people to his advantage, to weaken his opponent. He will more than likely play mind games with you, or make remarks that make you uncomfortable.” Her eyes flicked to me for a moment, then back to the room as a whole. “He usually likes to single out those who appear weak, or young. As he says, those are his ‘type.’”

I felt most eyes in the room flicker briefly to me, but I kept my gaze straight ahead, arms crossed. Good to know even the Sergeant had better discretion than this woman.

“I warn you of this so that you do not let it affect you,” she concluded. “You are dismissed. Complete the mission and return safely.”

That was nice. Blunt and Jones had only ever told me to complete the mission. Screw my safety.

We descended to the ground floor and followed Jules to the loading dock, a five minute walk away, and introduced ourselves while we waited. They didn’t use codenames, but they only gave us their first names, and I’m sure some of them were fake. They all seemed like capable soldiers, sharp and fit, and I’ll admit a little guiltily that I didn’t pay much attention beyond that and their first names.

We stuck to our code names, for which I was grateful. I’m not sure how consistently I’d respond if they called me Matthew.

We learned that all the soldiers but Jules, who was proficient, but not fluent, had little English under their belt, so communication would go mainly by Jules, me, or Tiger. Surprisingly, though Tiger had introduced himself as the Communications expert, he nodded to me and listed me as an alternate route of communication if he was otherwise occupied.

Well. That was…mature.

I nodded in thanks.

After a few more minutes of idle chatter, a transport vehicle arrived.

I bristled, knowing it contained the prisoner. I’ll admit, everyone’s descriptions had put me on edge. I was a bit worried about this journey, though I didn’t want to let it show.

A hand dropped on my shoulder, and I couldn’t quite hold my flinch, but it was just Lion. “If you feel uncomfortable,” he said quietly, so only I could hear, “or if you need to swap with one of the Frenchmen in the other vehicles, let me know. Don’t forget you have a unit behind you.”

Surprised, but a little grateful despite myself, I nodded. This was a team mission. Trust issues or no, it was okay to rely on other people. I couldn’t do this kind of thing alone.

I noticed that, though imperceptibly, as the doors opened and Frederick Slasher Hollis was revealed, Lion, Tiger, and Bear all scooted just a bit in front of me, hiding me from view of the back of the van, where Hollis’ line of sight would fall.

I was, all at once, shocked, disturbed, a little angry, and…touched.

That was…thoughtful. Maybe I was being too obvious about how antsy I was. But anyone, even Matthew, would be in this situation, right?

I peered around Lion and caught a glimpse of the infamous Slasher.

I wasn’t surer if it was my fear, the rumors, or a combination, but…yeah. I wasn’t liking this at all.

He was a man of impressive stature, easily 6’2” or above, with muscles that were nothing to scoff at. He was decorated with tattoos, winding patterns of color racing up his arms and neck, a star on one cheek and a Chinese character of some kind on the other. He sported a nose ring, several ear piercings, and a bar through his lower lip. His wore a sleeveless white t-shirt and orange pants, and his hands and feet were shackled closely together, a chain attaching his hands and feet as well.

“Well,” he said, grinning to reveal a row of dazzling white teeth. He had a shaved head, with the beginnings of dark stubble beginning to show, and beady dark eyes that seemed to take in everything at once. He was no one to mess with. “Are these the fine young men who are going to protect little old me?”

He was American, though there was some kind of accent layered on top. I couldn’t tell what. His eyes surveyed the dock, and the transporters on either side of him guided him quickly to the back of the delivery truck we’d be using. In doing so, he passed us, and his eyes settled on me. They stayed there.

He grinned, and I was reminded of a shark. He had half a foot on me easy, and I hated looking up at him. “And who might _you_ be?”

“One of the fine young men who’s going to be escorting you,” I said, trying to keep my voice even and toneless.

His eyes looked me up and down. “Fine young man indeed.” I tried not to flinch. One of the men jerked him along, and he glanced back my way before walking forward again, saying something snide to one of the men beside him.

Lion patted my shoulder. “Don’t sit next to him. I don’t want him near you.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” I admitted, watching him. “I appreciate it, but I can handle myself, you know.”

Lion looked up, making sure Hollis wasn’t looking our way, and tousled my hair. “I know you can, but I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it, you don’t have to.”

“Yeah, I don’t like him,” Bear commented, bumping my shoulder. “He’s a creep. It’s normal to be freaked out.”

I shrugged. “I was warned twice. I’ve got the message.”

“Twice?” Tiger asked, looking confused. While he wasn’t nearly as open about it as Lion or Bear, I could tell he wasn’t happy, either.

Oh. Oops. “Sergeant warned me before we left. He had more discretion.”

Lion frowned. “Tell us next time. That’s what a unit’s for. We look out for each other.”

I looked away. “Fine.” It wasn’t worth arguing over.

The transporters got Hollis secured to his seat (which had been specially equipped with harnesses and the like) and instructed us on how to use each of them before we departed. During this, Hollis’ eyes roamed, but he kept looking back at me. I steadfastly avoided his eyes, refusing to give him the pleasure.

Finally, when it was time to move out, we took our seats inside the delivery truck and closed the doors. We’d be driving eight hours today, stopping once for food and once again for bathroom and gas, and then stopping at an old German military base that hadn’t been used, but had been maintained for foreign necessity.

The others in my unit climbed in before me, Lion and Tiger resolutely taking the seats beside Hollis before I’d even climbed inside. The seats were three or so feet apart, so it wasn’t like riding a bus next to him, but I was glad I wouldn’t have to be closer to him than necessary. I’d expected Lion to, but Tiger surprised me. He might’ve been more of a softie than I thought he was.

I considered. Maybe…this wasn’t so bad. This whole…having people looking out for you, thing.

It hadn’t been bad so far. It had been conflicting, and worrying, but…not bad.

I’d consider. I didn’t have to decide anything right away.

With a small jerk, we pulled out of the dock and were on our way.

The delivery truck had small holes in the sides, enough to allow proper air flow. I used them to watch the scenery rush past, though it made me a bit dizzy at times. Still, it was better than looking at Hollis, who’d been looking at me almost this entire time.

I bloody hated this feeling. It felt like my skin was crawling.

“So,” Hollis said, his voice reverberating. I flinched, and then bloody hated myself for it, because I saw him grin out of the corner of my eye. I was on edge, and he knew. “You, the little one. What’s your name?”

I didn’t answer. If I didn’t engage with him, maybe he’d take the hint and leave it.

That only seemed to egg him on more, though. “Strong silent type? Now that’s something I didn’t expect out of you.”

“Quiet,” Tiger snapped, crossing his arms. “We’re not here for conversation.”

“No?” Hollis asked, raising an eyebrow. “But it’s so quiet without it. And he looks like he’s got interesting stories to tell. I’m all for a good story, but I’d like to know your name! What do you say?”

“I’m gonna bloody gag him,” Tiger muttered.

“Oh, unfortunately that’s not allowed,” Hollis commented, looking smug. “I know my rights.”

“This isn’t America,” Bear commented, and I’d never heard the happy, buoyant guy sound so cold. I shot him a look, only to see that his posture reflected his voice. He didn’t like this any more than I did. None of them did.

“No, but you still treat people with respect, I’m sure,” he said, eyes glinting. He looked at me, and I made the mistake of looking at him as he did so. “Oh, pretty eyes, kiddo. I was worried you’d never look at me!”

I looked away. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“I heard earlier that you guys use animal codenames,” Hollis commented, chattering on like he would with a friend. “So can I at least know those? If I need to ask for something?” I kept silent, as did the other three. “If I guess and get it right, will you let me know?”

No one responded. Tiger tapped his foot impatiently.

“Hm,” he said, and even looking away, I could feel him staring at me intently. “Kiddie…maybe yours would be…I dunno, Dog?” He paused, and I waited for the punchline. “No, no…maybe Bitch,” he said, a sly grin stretching over his teeth. “That would be a suitable occupation for you, I bet.”

“Oh, I’m gonna bloody kill ‘im,” Tiger muttered, reaching for his bag.

“Tiger,” I said quietly. He looked up at me, as did Hollis. “It’s fine. He can say whatever he wants.” I looked at Hollis, then, steeling myself. “I don’t give a damn.”

Lion smiled, looking away to hide it.

Hollis smiled, too, but it was very, very different. “That’s okay. It’s no fun if you go off when I’m just getting started.”

I looked away again, propping my chin up on my hand. We were passing through more rolling fields, leaving the city further and further behind. I wished I was back on holiday with Jack and Ian. Anywhere but here, really.

“Fine, fine. I’ll try something else. How old are you?”

Again, I remained silent. Lion didn’t, though. I could tell he was getting fed up. His voice was calm, but his eyes were dark. “Take the hint, Hollis. No one here is going to talk to you like you want.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Hollis said, waving a shackled hand. “I’ll just talk, don’t mind me.”

And he did. For four bloody hours until we stopped for food. His words ranged from harmless, to cruel, to absolutely intended to draw a reaction, and by the time we stopped, I was ready to tear my hair out.

As soon as the wheels stopped turning, before the truck was even settled, I was out of my seat and headed for the door. “What, tired of me already?” Hollis called behind me as I jumped down, brushing past Jacques, who’d unlocked the doors.

We were in a clearing behind a thick copse of trees, just off the road. A lonely little diner sat across the street, but the foreseeable stretch of land beyond the trees was otherwise deserted.

I stopped at a sturdy looking tree and braced myself against it, taking a shuddering breath.

That was bloody awful.

“Are you alright?” Lion’s quiet voice asked behind me.

I inhaled, turning around and leaning back against the tree. “Yes. He’s just a prick.”

Lion laughed. “Can’t argue with that. Let me know if you want to switch vehicles.”

I shook my head. “No. It sucks, sure, but I’m not giving him the satisfaction.” I shifted, looking away. “Thank you, for being…you know.”

He smiled. “You’re welcome. I told you, we’ve got your back.”

He leaned on the tree across from me and sat. I took it as an invitation to do the same. “Bear’s pretty fond of you, you know. He likes finally having someone younger than him around.”

I smirked. “Guess he needed someone around his own age. He’s a ball of energy.”

Lion grinned. “That he is. And believe it or not, Tiger’s very protective of his unit. That includes you.”

I raised an eyebrow, dubious.

“I’m serious,” Lion said, folding his hands behind his head. “You’ve seen him with Bear, haven’t you?”

I had. Tiger was different with Bear. I could tell immediately that Bear was very important to Tiger; it was evident through his actions and his words, though only to someone who was watching. And Bear seemed to know, and reciprocated the affection, however hidden.

“What he did in there?” Lion said, nodding towards the delivery truck. “How he got so angry when Hollis started goading you? That’s something he’d do for Bear or me.”

I looked away, feeling heat flame in my cheeks. “Why are you telling me this?”

“To prove to you, since you’re so stubborn and unwilling to realize it, that we’ve wholeheartedly accepted you into our unit, and you’re not allowed to do anything about it.” Lion shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “To be honest, I didn’t think it would happen. But…you’re a much better kid than you make yourself out to be.”

I scoffed.

“See? You’re doing it again. You put yourself down far too much, and you don’t even realize it.” I ignored him, but he just smirked when my eye twitched.

The Frenchmen, who’d been milling about, seemed to disperse. Jules came over to us. “I am going to bring the food back here to eat,” he said slowly, though his pronunciation was quite good. “What would you like? It has simple English and French options.”

“Fish and chips?” I ventured, relieved when he nodded. I wasn’t in the mood for any surprises. Or, God forbid, duck.

“Make that four orders,” Lion said. “The other two will probably want that, anyways.”

Jules nodded. “Do you know what the package prefers?”

“Go in the back and scoop something out of the garbage, for all I care,” I muttered, turning my head away.

Lion laughed. “Just another order of fish and chips,” he said. Jules nodded and left, George and Vinny—if I remembered correctly—accompanying him.

“Lion,” I said quietly, not looking at him. I felt heat flame in my cheeks. “If I…if I accept what you’re offering…you know, to be…a real member of the unit…” I took a deep breath, steadfastly ignoring his intent gaze. “Could I do it without revealing anything? I can’t…I can’t do that. Definitely not yet.”

Lion smiled. “Of course, squirt. Rome wasn’t built in a day. You can reveal things as you need to.”

“On the condition of you never call me squirt again,” I said, turning back to him with murder in my eyes.

He laughed, though, and looked unashamed. “Nope. Unit members have exclusive rights to use any nicknames we want.”

“Fine, arsehole,” I shot back.

“That’s fine, half-pint,” he retorted, and it was easy.

It was so damn easy.

The past minute had been a conversation I promised myself I’d never have. I promised myself I’d never accept this. Never, ever.

But…Hollis freaked me out, and I thought I was going to have to do it alone, like I did everything else, but then…then the idiots _bodily_ put themselves between me and him, even though they didn’t know what he was capable of or what he might do. They spoke up on my behalf. They…they gave a damn.

And unless I’d been missing the past month, I didn’t think I’d done nearly enough to earn that. Which meant they were…giving it. Just…just giving it.

If they were giving it, and I didn’t have to…to earn it…maybe I could let myself accept it. At least a little.

I couldn’t call them family yet, not even close, and I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to. We’d only known each other a month. But…

…but it wouldn’t hurt to call them friends.


	9. Chapter 9

**Warning: Some more suggestive comments that might be triggering. Stay safe!**

Despite the newfound companionship I felt with the rest of my unit, which was really, really nice after seven months of intense loneliness and uncertainty, the mission continued to deteriorate.

Hollis’s comments became more scathing as the night wore on. After dinner we’d driven four more hours, stopping Germany just a half hour from the Czech border. The new plan included camping instead of staying at inns (which sucked) because of the newfound knowledge that our presence would most likely put innocent bystanders in mortal danger.

We’d been equipped with sleeping bags and extra blankets and a thin pillow, but the night was cold and the earth was hard and damp. As we set up camp, letting a fire smolder dimly as we tried to get warm without giving up too much smoke, two of the Frenchmen escorted Hollis to his designated pocket in the center of the group. He sat down cross-legged on his sleeping bag, looking around the campsite with his usual cocky smirk.

“Not exactly the Hilton,” he said with stale disappointment, examining the ground beneath him. “Though I love the fauna theme. Very outdoor-sy.”

For the most part, we paid him no mind, setting up the campsite. It wasn’t due to rain, so we didn’t bother with the provided tents, electing to keep ourselves as aware as possible. It would be difficult to distinguish friend from foe from the confines of an opaque tent.

The twelve of us set ourselves up in a pattern that spiraled outwards from the smoldering fire and Hollis, at the center. The four L-Unit members would form a square around him, and the eight Frenchmen would set themselves varying distances away in the clearing, covering all incoming vantage points.

There would be two people on watch at all times, and they would switch off every two hours to avoid fatigue. It was about eleven now, and we would be moving out no later than eight the next morning. Since, Jules insisted, we’d had such a rough day prior and we’d had to keep watch last night (which I belatedly realized the others had never woken me up for) the Frenchmen would take these eight hours before we all woke up at seven, and we’d take our turns the next night.

Lion agreed (through Tiger) with a gracious smile and a nod of thanks. “Good, I’m bloody exhausted,” he said with a laugh. Bear and Tiger looked relieved, too.

“You should have woken me up to keep watch last night,” I said with a displeased frown, making my way to my sleeping bag. “I was expecting to be woken up at some point.”

“You looked so peaceful we couldn’t wake you,” Bear said with a teasing grin. “Besides, we hardly see you sleep at all. You’re up when we go to sleep, and you’re up when we wake up, and you roam around in the middle of the night all the bloody time. We figured you could use it.”

Heat flamed in my cheeks and I quickly turned away, muttering a thank you.

Looking around, I saw that the Frenchmen had already changed or were changing into their sleepwear, and two of them were guarding Hollis as he changed, restraints on hand for when he was done. I looked quickly away before he could see me and make some comment about my staring.

Grabbing up my t-shirt and sweatpants, I whispered to Lion, “I’ll be back,” and headed for the trees.

Changing quickly, I relished the silence for a moment, leaning back against a tree. I stopped, for just a moment, and let the peaceful solitude wash over me, closing my eyes and breathing in the fresh earth. Despite the fact that camping wasn’t one of my favorite pastimes, it made me feel close to Ian, for a moment. He insisted I at least know how to camp and survive in the wilderness, should I even need to.

I opened my eyes slowly, the memory of him smiling as he waved goodbye the last time before that mission etched behind my eyes.

I missed him. I missed him so much.

I sighed, feeling my peaceful bubble break, and trekked back to the campsite.

Hollis’ restraints had been replaced, his feet and ankles chained together, and the chains on his ankles were attached to a compact metal box that probably weighed at least fifty pounds.

As I made my way back to my bag, he saw me out of the corner of his eye and smiled. A shiver ran up my spine, but I didn’t let it show, instead looking away and focusing intently on my bag, sitting down to rifle through my bag.

“I thought you’d gone and left me,” he said with an air of indignation. “Still shy about changing in front of the other boys? You’re not _that_ young, are you?”

I ignored him, though I felt my eye twitch. Luckily, he didn’t see.

“Shut up and lie down,” Bear said, and it sounded almost like he’d growled the words. The usually chipper man looked as wrung out as I felt.

I didn’t know how I was going to sleep tonight with this monster just a stone’s throw away from me. I pulled a paperback out of my bag and read it by the dim light of the smoldering logs, my eyes straining, as the others lay down and prepared to sleep.

Lion crouched besides me as I slouched back against my backpack in a futile search for a backrest, saying quietly, “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yes,” I said decidedly. I’d shown about as much vulnerability as I possibly could today, and if I showed anymore, I’d burst, crumble, or both. “He’ll sleep eventually.”

Lion didn’t look wholly convinced, but he patted my shoulder and told me to wake him if I needed anything. I tried very hard not to scoff at his kind gesture. Yes, that was likely to happen. I’d shake him awake in the middle of a group of armed soldiers like a child waking their mother during a storm.

Instead I gave a nod of affirmation, and he went to his own bag, lying down to sleep.

The two Frenchmen on watch had lit cigarettes and were keeping a close eye on the tree lines, looking attentive, but I kept half an eye out anyways.

A half hour later, after reading what little I could in the darkness, I put the book down, intent on getting some sleep. I could tell by the sounds around me that most, if not all, of the men not on watch were asleep. I was sure I would toss and turn all night, surrounded by strangers and under the crude watch of an enemy, but I decided to at least try to rest.

“Finally giving in?” Hollis’ voice startled me, and I couldn’t quite contain a flinch. I glared in his direction, settling down into my bag and zipping it up around me. “Come on, I still don’t know your name.”

“Go to sleep,” I ordered, making my voice as steely as I could.

“Why? I can just sleep tomorrow,” he argued, and I was reminded of a whiny child asking that their bedtime be delayed. “Besides, it’s too cold to sleep.” He grinned. “Why don’t you come keep me warm tonight? I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Why don’t I just toss you right into the embers, then, shall I?” I muttered just loud enough for him to hear. “You’ll be nice and warm all night, and cooked by morning, I’m sure.”

“Am I finally getting to you, fearless little soldier?” He taunted, the leer evident in his voice. I lay down, rolling away from him, and tried very hard not to listen. “You lasted longer than I thought you would. I knew I picked a fun target.”

“Target?” I questioned before I could stop myself, rolling over and sitting up to look at him. “I think you’re missing the entire point of this entourage. At the moment, _you’re_ the target, and I and all the other people here are the only thing between you and a one-way ticket to hell. So shut up, lie down, and sleep.”

Resolved to give him absolutely no attention for the rest of the night, at the very least, I rolled away from him, shutting my eyes and wishing I could do the same to my ears. I expected an onslaught of taunts and jeers, but he just chuckled, letting out a sarcastic “Yes, sir” before I heard the fabric rustle as he lay back.

I tried to calm myself, to slow the thudding of my heart to alleviate the ache in my chest, but it was no use. I tried listening to the even breathing of the people around me, the hushed voices of the soldiers on watch, and I even tried some of the meditation techniques Sabina ( _don’t think about it, don’t think about it_ ) had insisted I learn. None of it helped.

An hour or so later, I gave up, quietly extracting myself from my sleeping bag in favor of wandering the camp. I made my way through the sleeping bodies, trying not to wake anyone, towards the two Frenchmen on guard.

“Has it been quiet?” I asked in French. They responded likewise.

“Too quiet,” one of them said, taking a long drag from his cigarette. “Even if it’s only been half a day, based on all the people after him…I’d expected something by now, even if it was just a potshot or two.”

The other nodded in assent. I felt bad that I couldn’t remember their names, but I doubt they remembered mine, anyhow.

Truth be told, I was feeling on edge, myself. I’d grown to know when I was being watched—if I paid attention, it just felt like…the slightest feeling of unease dancing on my spine, but it was enough to alert me that something was amiss. The only problem was that I couldn’t tell if it was from an actual threat or my unease towards Hollis.

“I’m going to walk the perimeter,” I told them, offering a wave as I departed. “I’ll stay within shouting distance.”

They nodded, not seeming worried at my departing alone. I had my gun, and I knew how to defend myself. I’d be fine.

I walked slowly, scanning the area, looking for any twig or branch that looked tampered with by someone not of our party. I saw a couple things that caught my eye, but upon closer examination, they looked like natural animal trails.

I circled the area twice, still feeling uneasy, though I’d assured myself that there was nothing in the trees that would pose a threat.

The guards changed, then, and the two Frenchmen woke two of the others from their sleep, rousing them quietly.

In that moment of change, when no one should have been on their guard, they struck.

Unluckily for them, I _was_ on my guard.

The reason I hadn’t caught them in the first place was because I had stupidly ignored the treetops, assuming that if someone _were_ to attack, they’d come the traditional way, on their feet. Instead, three of them dropped from the trees, guns up and ready to shoot.

Had I not been awake, alert, and coincidentally near them, I’m sure the four Frenchmen who were awake, caught unawares, would have died.

Luckily for them, two of them were distracted by my sudden appearance on their left, and I downed the first one with a shot to the femoral vein. She dropped her gun and fell with a cry, and I dropped with her, fully aware of the spray of bullets that cut through the space where my head should’ve been.

Instinctive shooting was severely underrated, I thought begrudgingly. _Don’t think. Shoot_.

I shut my eyes as panic threatened to sabotage my shot, instead flinging my arm out and shooting from memory rather than sight. I heard another cry and thud, this one felled by a shot to his side. A spurt of blood from his mouth told me I’d hit a lung, and I figured I must have shot directly under his vest at an upward angle, to make a shot like that.

It scared me, but I couldn’t let it slow me down.

The third assailant had taken a shot at one of the Frenchmen before he’d registered my presence, but now he whipped around, feeling my gun trained on him, and I was at his back before he knew what was going on. “Drop it,” I said with steel in my voice, “unless you want to join your friends.”

After a tense second of silence, during which those who had been (amazingly) still asleep had been roused and were collecting their own weapons as quickly as they could, the man dropped his gun. “Raise your arms.”

He did. “Interlock your fingers.” He did that too. I kicked the back of his knee, and he landed with a grunt and a curse. I shoved the muzzle of the gun into the back of his head, daring him to move.

The two assailants already down were reaching for their weapons, but the rest of my team was already there, restraining them. If I’d been alone, I probably would’ve been shot in the back by one of them, because I’d been so focused on making sure the last one didn’t shoot anyone else.

Luckily, George, the Frenchman shot, wasn’t seriously injured. It was a through-and-through to the shoulder; Bear said he’d been lucky. It bled quite a bit, but Bear put a pressure bandage on it and wrapped it tight. “It’s fine for now, but you need to get to a hospital sooner rather than later,” he said seriously.

While three of the Frenchmen and Tiger and I secured the attackers, keeping close watch over them, Bear came over to bind their wounds until they were picked up for transport and official arrest. “Lion and Jules are talking about what to do and they need an interpreter,” Bear said, crouching beside the one who’d been shot in the lung. As Tiger left to go help them, Bear’s brow furrowed. “He needs emergency field surgery if he’s going to make it. I don’t think I can do that with what I have.”

Bear handed me a compression bandage and some disinfectant and said, “You did well in your medical eval; could you patch her up? This will take a while.”

I nodded, silently taking the offered bandages and crouching beside the woman, who was doing a valiant job of not moaning in pain. She’d already bled a considerable amount.

“Coddling your enemies doesn’t seem like the best thing to do,” she spat as I rolled her over, inspecting her leg.

“That’s what makes us different,” I said quietly, forcing myself to believe the words.

I’d just shot two people, and one of them may die. My hands were shaking.

She scoffed, crying out in pain as I poured disinfectant into the wound. The bullet was still stuck in her leg, so at least she was only bleeding from one place. I fought to urge to offer a soft apology, instead forcing the compression bandage up her leg and over the wound, flinching when she cried out again.

My hands were absolutely _trembling_.

“I will finish,” a voice said in front of me, crouching on the other side of the woman and reaching for the roll of bandages in my bloody hands. I looked up, surprised he’d gotten so close without my knowing, and saw Jacques. He took the bandage from me and nodded, giving me permission to back away. I didn’t even trust my voice enough to thank him.

I stood quickly, distancing myself from the bleeding bodies on the ground, taking my gun and stumbling quickly to my bag. I doused it in water, cleaning it efficiently, and then washed the blood from my hands, packing my bag. We wouldn’t stay here, I was sure; our position was far too compromised.

“That was quite a show,” Hollis commented, and I flinched in surprise at his grating voice, feeling very close to losing my mind. “I didn’t think you had that in you.”

I didn’t dignify that with an answer.

“Jaguar,” Lion called. I looked up, and he beckoned me towards him, Jules, and Tiger, where they’d formed a tight circle, foreheads all creased in thought and worry.

“Yeah?” I said as I approached, my voice much steadier than the rest of me.

“First of all, thank you,” he said seriously, clapping me on the shoulder. “You’ve saved us yet again, and I’m a little embarrassed at this point. It feels like you’ve done this whole mission on your own.”

I felt the blush creeping up my neck, and felt my eyebrows pinch together. “I feel like this is the most I’ve relied on people in a long time,” I disagreed, too tired to even think of chastising myself for the reveal. I was tired, and hungry, and in shock, and I overall felt like shit. “If you hadn’t gotten to those other two when you did, they’d’ve shot me in the back.”

Lion smirked, but his eyes still looked dark. “Still. Anyways, the French embassy has worked with a nearby German hospital to send a helicopter, and they’re going to transport the wounded. Another transport van is going to come to fetch the uninjured attacker. We wanted your opinion. How should we handle this from here on out?”

I blinked in surprise, looking at Tiger for confirmation, who shrugged. “You’re a pain in the arse sometimes, kid, but you know what you’re doing.”

Finally, I looked at Jules, who nodded.

_Don’t think. Shoot_.

“We can’t stay here,” I said letting my mind go into overdrive, like I had on the train the other day. I didn’t think about their reactions, or the circumstances—I only let my training and my experience dictate the words coming out of my mouth. Emotion had not place here—only cold analysis. “Our position’s been entirely compromised. Before we find out how, we need to get somewhere safe. Tiger, would you question the uninjured attacker? I doubt we’ll get much, but see if he lets anything slip before transport shows up.” Tiger nodded tightly, turning away and stalking over towards Bear and the others.

“We can’t stop anymore,” I continued on. “Obviously there’s either a spy in the ranks, or the plan’s been leaked. Jules, I’m sorry, but I trust L-Unit and you with this information, and nobody else. What we say doesn’t leave here, understand?” Jules looked pained, like he wanted to argue, but nodded tersely.

“We should move Hollis to one of the convoy vehicles,” I said quickly, looking around on instinct to make sure nothing else was amiss. “If our route has been leaked, everything in the operation has become null. They’ll know he’s in the delivery truck. Put him in the car behind the truck; if they attack while we’re driving, they’ll go for the front one first, to distract the delivery truck driver.”

I stopped to catch my breath, my thoughts racing. “I don’t know how, but they knew exactly where we’d be staying, even though the plan was just changed this morning. There’s a spy here, a spy in the brass, or they’ve been following us since Paris…” I said almost to myself, rehashing my previous ideas to sort through them.

“Sweep the vehicles before we move out,” I said, “and be thorough. They may have planted a tracking device on one of them after they’d been checked by the DRM.”

I looked at our remaining forces. Luckily, we were only one man down, but that would change our whole dynamic. “Put Jacques,” who I liked well enough to think he probably wasn’t a spy, “Hollis, me, and…Jules, another Frenchman that you trust with your life, in the back car. Lion and Bear will drive the delivery truck, and four Frenchmen can ride in the back. I’m afraid to put Tiger and Jules in the front car, because that’s the one they’ll probably go for first, but it’s our best option…”

My thoughts were still racing as I worked out the rest of the details. “As long as nothing happens, we’ll continue to switch out drivers – six hour shifts, no less. We break for bathroom every three hours, and food every six. When we break for food we get it and keep driving. There’s about nineteen hours left on the journey, but I ant to make it at least twenty-one and make a few detours. It’s risky, but if we confuse whoever’s in watching us, however they’re doing it, it’ll make it harder for them to plan and launch an attack.” I took a breath, looking back at them. “And I recommend we get going the second the wounded and prisoners are out of here.”

Jules was two words away from catching flies. He stared at me with wide eyes, looking to Lion, who shrugged with a smile. “He’s an enigma. Don’t worry about it.”

Lion tousled my hair without warning, and I resisted the urge to bat his hand away, frowning. “Knew we could count on you. I hate to ask, but go get Hollis prepped for transport. We’ll need to secure him as best we can in the convoy vehicle, so Jules and I will pull it around and get started on it.”

I nodded wordlessly, my heart skipping a beat at the thought of being so close to Hollis, but I told myself to get over it and get it done. There was work to do.

The distant _thump thump thump_ of helicopter blades entered my awareness as I made my way to the package, and I was glad. Maybe that man would survive after all. I didn’t want to be the one who killed him.

“Sit up,” I said tersely; Hollis was lying relaxed on his sleeping bag, two Frenchmen standing guard over him. “We’re getting you prepped for transport.”

Hollis opened one eye and grinned at me. “I like it when you’re commanding. It’s so different from how you look.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes and took the key from one of the Frenchmen’s extended hands, watching warily out of the corner of my eye as Hollis sat up. “Put your feet out.”

He did without complaint, and I unlocked his shackled feet from the metal box, quickly reattaching the shackle on his feet to the one on his wrists. As I turned to give the key back to the Frenchmen I’d gotten it from, I felt a hand brush my face.

My reaction was not as dignified as I wanted it to be, but the unwelcome presence nearly sent me into a panic, since I was already so on edge. My gun was against his crotch before he could move another inch.

_When you’re in a real bind,_ Ian’s voice rang in my head, _and you need to get away or buy yourself some time, go for below the belt. It’ll slow any man down_.

“Get your hand off me,” I ordered calmly. His face had quickly drained of color, and he risked a glance down. “Unless you want to lose something important.”

He went very still for just a second, and I heard one of the Frenchmen snort, then come to my aid. He grabbed the offending hand and shoved it away from me, returning my thankful nod with one of his own.

“I was just looking at your hair,” Hollis recovered smoothly, though his complexion was still sickly as I took my time putting my gun away.

_Damn. That felt so much better than it should have_.

“Why do you dye it? You’d look good with fair hair.”

_Shit._ Was it that noticeable? “That’s none of your business,” I said, standing and backing up a few paces. The helicopter was descending rapidly, and the wind was tearing at our clothes. It settled on the other side of the clearing, and quickly four or five medics jumped from the settled aircraft, racing to Bear’s side.

“Your friend stopped working on the one he was so frantic about,” Hollis said with a cruel smile, obviously fully recovered.

The words threw me, and I turned quickly to look, to see that indeed, Bear was making sure the woman had enough fluids, and the man I’d shot was…flat on his back. Not moving. Not breathing.

I faltered. One of the Frenchmen quickly grabbed my shoulder to steady me, but I shrugged it off, unable to be okay with being touched in that moment.

I hated the feeling I got in my gut after I killed, directly or otherwise. It felt like with every life I took, another little piece of me was chipped off and sucked away for good. Like it was one more crumbling brick closer to my unraveling.

“Now you’re just like me,” Hollis said, and his voice came to me through roaring waves crashing through my ears. “Just another murderer.”

“Say anything like that again and we’ll leave you to the wolves,” I registered Tiger’s voice coming up behind us. I turned detachedly to look at him, but his eyes were focused solely on Hollis, burning with anger. If his eyes could have burned holes in Hollis’ head, they would have. “He saved our lives, including yours.”

Hollis smirked, leaning back. “Whatever you say, soldier boy.”

Tiger growled.

Tiger nudged my arm and led me away from him a bit. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just a prick.”

I nodded dazedly. I really wasn’t feeling good after that.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright with him?” Tiger asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Lion told me your configuration. I don’t like it.”

“I don’t either,” I admitted, looking back at the medics rushing around the two injured, escorting them quickly into the helicopter. The transport vehicle for the uninjured prisoner had since shown up, and he was being loaded. “But I want someone from L-Unit in every car. We don’t know if there’s a spy, so I don’t want one car operating independently if the spy is driving. Bear needs to be away from Hollis; he’s the only medic, so if Hollis’ car _is_ targeted and there are casualties, he needs to be okay. I trust Lion and him to drive the delivery vehicle, and I trust you to make sure the front car is running okay. You have a bigger presence than I do, so if the spy is up front, he’ll be more aware of you. I put Jules with you just in case.”

“Leaving you effectively alone,” he said, his displeasure evident.

“I didn’t think you cared this much,” I said without thinking. My filter was really off today.

Tiger blinked. “Maybe I don’t show it because I don’t coddle you, but I care about what happens to my unit, arsehole.”

I dragged a hand down my face, looking away. “I’m sorry. I’m just…worn out. This has been a cluster from the start.”

Tiger grumbled, but I could tell he wasn’t angry with me, for which I was grateful. I don’t think I could have handled that. “I still think it’d be better if Lion or I was with Hollis instead. Don’t make yourself a martyr.”

The offer was tempting, but I knew I wouldn’t accept. With the word “friend”, which I’d grudgingly accepted these three idiots to be earlier in the day, came the nearly unbearable burden of what would happen when my presence finally caught up with them.

Just as it had with Yassen, Ash, Jack, Sabina, and even Tom, who’d been shot before I finally decided to cut off contact with him.

They were worried about me, and wanted to protect me, and I would forever be grateful for the knowledge that I wasn’t entirely alone in the world. But that meant I would protect them until my dying breath to repay that kindness, and there wasn’t a damn thing they could do to stop me.

“Thank you,” I said genuinely. “For that and for what you did back there. But I think this is the best setup.”

Tiger looked dubious, but acquiesced. “Fine. If you get uncomfortable let one of us know.”

I nodded, though it was mostly to appease him than anything else.

The next half hour was a blur of loading and prepping, and then we were on the road. I’d quickly claimed the passenger seat, unwilling to be trapped in the backseat with Hollis, with Jacques driving and Vinny in the backseat. Despite my exhaustion, I knew with Hollis’ sporadic prattling, the hum of the engine beneath me, and the twisting in my gut, sleep was far off.

I propped my head on my hand and leaned against the door, watching the darkened scenery whiz by as we raced down the deserted road, desperate to reach Kiev. Desperate to be rid of the parasite sitting behind me who scared me much more than I would ever admit to anyone but myself.

Desperate to return to the relative safety of Brecon Beacons.

Maybe just…desperate.

I was sixteen, and world-weary, and it shook me when I realized that no one had called me _Alex_ in a very, very long time, and that it actually bothered me greatly.

I wasn’t even sure if Alex really existed anymore. But Matthew didn’t exist either. He never had. Who was I if I wasn’t either of them?

I was giving up more and more information about myself, and the others were beginning to see through the cracks in this shield I’d worked so hard to forge. I was sure I could do it. I was sure that I could hide in plain sight for just _two years_ , until I was no longer under MI6’s guardianship. Then I’d be free, I told myself. If I could just make it two years.

It had been one month. One month, and I was desperate for everything to just…stop.

To just…stop the world, for just five minutes, and take the silence to figure out who I was, what I wanted, and what was going to become of me. Unfortunately, Father Time had no such intentions, and the thoughts of uncertainty and despair plagued me for the next several hundred miles.

Those, and the words _Just another murderer_ , echoing like a macabre anthem.

_Desperate for the world to stop, just for five minutes._ One _minute._

_Desperate._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

The next eight hours continued without incident, and then everything went to Hell in a Hollis-shaped handbasket.

I still wasn’t feeling well, and after managing to doze against the window for an hour, I somehow felt worse. Hollis’ incessant prattling in the back wasn’t helping anything, either. Bloody hell, he could talk about _anything_ , all by himself. He was constantly commenting on the landscape, the weather, the names of the towns we passed…his German accent was rubbish, which was I’m sure most of the reason he even tried.

Jacques kept sending me concerned glances, and I even caught Vinny in the back sending me a glance in the rearview mirror. I could feel my breathing getting heavier, but I didn’t know what was causing it. I hadn’t been injured anymore than my arm, which ached considerably, but that was to be expected with all the moving around I did last night.

I leaned my forehead on the cool glass and closed my eyes, taking a deep breath through my nose. I was trying to keep alert, but the exhaustion was weighing on me. I’d managed to keep the others from noticing during our break a couple hours ago, but I’d deteriorated a lot since then.

What was wrong with me?

“You’re not looking stellar,” Hollis said from the back, and I heard him lean forward as much as the harness would allow, inspecting the back of my head. I shivered, but didn’t give him any attention. “Need a hot water bottle? I’ve been told I’m practically a furnace.”

I didn’t respond. I wasn’t not sure how much Vinny and Jacques understood, because they sent a confused glance our way, but made no comment. Vinny, who’d switched to the driver’s seat after our last break, put a hand on my shoulder.

“Are you okay?” He asked in French, looking quickly between me and the road. French intelligence agents were much more openly concerned than English ones, apparently. That was both comforting and a hassle. “Do we need to stop?”

I shook my head, feeling a bead of sweat roll down my temple. I unconsciously gripped my arm, the pain nearly making me nauseous. “We can’t afford to. How long until we stop again?”

Vinny checked the tablet on the dash giving us virtual directions, equipped with an internal encrypter to scramble the signal to any prying eyes, so they wouldn’t be able to glean our location from it. “Forty minutes.”

I nodded, closing my eyes and trying to calm my roiling stomach, clutching my arm. “That’s fine. Bear can…look at me then.”

Vinny, with one last concerned glance at my arm, nodded.

“Don’t tell me you’re sick, soldier boy,” Hollis said, and though I was expecting a snide comment, it still made my head pound even harder. “You talked such a big game. You’re gonna let a little something like this slow you down?”

“Quiet,” Jacques said, his voice loud and commanding in the small space of the car. The rumbling engine wasn’t helping my nausea any, but I refused, with all my remaining pride, to get carsick in front of this lunatic.

“Just concerned for the well-being of the fine young soldier,” Hollis defended, leaning back. I heard a rustle of fabric and the clanking of the cuffs, but I wouldn’t let myself look. If I didn’t give him any attention, maybe he’d stop fixating on me.

I managed to doze for the next half hour, jostled into awareness only when Vinny gently braked, pulling into a lonely little gas station. I opened my eyes and blearily glanced inside in an effort to check for threats, seeing a single yawning store attendant behind the counter, reading a magazine with Slavic characters. We must have crossed into the Czech Republic, I thought dimly.

To be honest, I didn’t even realize that Jacques and Vinny had gotten out of the car. I was too out of it to notice much. Even when Bear came around to my door and opened it, I didn’t realize anything was amiss. If not for Bear’s quick reflexes and the seatbelt, I would’ve fallen right out onto the cold pavement.

“Shit,” Bear said, his face falling in concern when he saw just how out of it I was. “Jaguar? Jaguar, mate, I need you to wake up.”

“Hm?” I said thickly, blinking. “M’awake.”

“Lion, Tiger, I need some help,” Bear called, clicking my seatbelt as I lay limp in the seat. I wasn’t this bad a few minutes ago. What was going on with me? “I’m glad, kid, but I need you to stay that way. We’re going to move you to the transport van and get you lying flat, so I can take a look at you. _Shit_ , you’re burning up…”

I thought I might have nodded. “Think it’s…my arm…?” I said uncertainly, the fire in my arm seeming to be the root of the fire in my body.

“Your arm?” With dizzying speed, I was hefted into someone’s arms and carted quickly across the pavement, before I was lowered onto the cool metal of the transport van’s floor. Opening my eyes slightly, I saw blurred forms around me, recognizing Bear’s frantic movements and Lion and Tiger’s watchful gazes.

Man. My first SAS mission and I was already the damsel in distress. So much for proving myself as capable.

I made a sound of pain, tossing my head and hissing as Bear peeled the bandages away from the wound on my arm, letting out a string of curses that sounded nothing like the amiable, bouncy medic I’d come to know. I was too out of it to remember the pain management tactics I knew.

“Oh, Christ,” Lion said, peering at the wound with morbid curiosity.

“He’s borderline septic,” Bear said, rummaging through the first aid kit at his side. “The knife must have been rusted, or coated in something we missed. He was fine just a day ago.” He examined the wound more closely, and I flinched, the wound throbbing in time with my racing heart. “His stitches are torn—must’ve torn them last night, when we were attacked. Why didn’t you say anything?”

I took a labored breath, staring at the swaying ceiling. “I…didn’t know.” No wonder I felt so off last night; it had been the beginning of the infection setting in, but I’d attributed it to the manifestation of my guilt after killing that man. “It didn’t…hurt that much…”

“Should I call for a Med-Evac?” Tiger said quickly, phone in hand.

But I knew by the time the SAS or the DRM collaborated with the Czech government, or a nearby hospital (which was bound to be miles away, as we were in the middle of absolutely nowhere in the Czech countryside), got the transport here, and got me airlifted away somewhere, we’d be well past our allotted stopping time. With all the uncertainties that came with this mission, I didn’t want to risk it.

“There’s no time,” I breathed, trying to sit up. A firm hand on my chest stopped that ill-fated endeavor, but I wasn’t one to give up so easily. “Something’s weird about this whole thing…we don’t have…time to wait for transport.”

“Jaguar, you’re nearly _septic_ ,” Bear stressed, eyes pinched in anger and concern. It had been a while since anyone looked at me like that. Tom used to do that, when I told him bits of my missions. “Your pulse is racing, your temperature is skyrocketing, and you’re already having trouble breathing. This could be deadly.”

“I’ve gone farther…with worse,” I managed, dragging my good forearm over my forehead in an attempt to keep sweat from rolling into my eyes. “Standard antibiotics and some…fluids should hold me over until we’re…done with the mission.”

Bear scoffed and shook his head, sinking back on his heels. “I’ll run a line, but I really, really think we should call a Med-Evac,” he conceded, rummaging through the kit and emerging with a bag of saline and a needle with some tubing. “Lion, it’s your call.”

I glanced at Lion, who looked concerned, sending furtive glances my way and then towards the trucks. Despite that, I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and I didn’t like it. Tiger watched on passively, eyebrows furrowed, looking between the three of us.

“It’s not a good situation,” I conceded, taking a heavy breath, my chest aching a bit as my heart rate sped up. “But we need…to get the package delivered.”

“My men come first, not the mission, Jaguar,” Lion said decisively, shaking his head. “I don’t know how it was where you came from, but that’s how it is in the SAS.”

I closed my eyes, frustrated and tired. “That’s…my _point_. If we…stay here too long…” I took a deep breath, and it was harder than it should’ve been. “…then _no one’s_ getting…back safely.”

Bear busied himself with inserting the IV line, and handing the saline bag to Tiger, who held it up so the line would drip properly, but I could tell they were both watching Lion intently.

Lion, for his part, had his eyebrows pinched together in concern and deep thought, staring at a point in space far away. He looked out the back doors, where the Frenchmen were patrolling, getting food from the gas station, and refilling, sending us concerned glances as they did so. Vinny and Jacques were detailing the car with Hollis, keeping a watchful eye both on the package and the surroundings.

“We’ll back you up, whatever you decide,” Tiger said quietly, sending me a glance. “And you will too, Jaguar.”

Sighing through my nose, I could only nod. “You’re point. It’s…your decision.”

Lion shook his head. “We’re calling you a Med-Evac. I told you we lost someone. I’m not losing another friend, especially not for a prick like Hollis.”

I sighed in resignation even as Bear let out a breath of relief, situating more gauze and the suture kit for the patch job he’d try to do before the Med-Evac reached us. I ignored the flutter in my chest at the word friend. It had been a while since I’d had one of those, and hearing it confirmed was…nice.

Turning my attention back to the situation, I said, “At least… _consider_ … leaving me in the gas station and…continuing on.”

“No.”

I sent him a look. “You didn’t—”

“No, Jaguar. Not happening. I know it’s America’s slogan, but no man left behind, not on my watch.”

I shook my head. “You’re too damn…good for your own good.”

He shrugged, sending me a worried smile. “Can’t blame me for that, squirt.”

I scoffed. “Squirt, my ass.”

“Med-Evac will be here in forty minutes, maybe,” Tiger said, his face grim. “The DRM said the Czech government will probably be…a little unhappy with them, because they didn’t get approval; the original plan didn’t take us through here, so they didn’t think it was necessary. They’ll be in a pissing contest for a while, but they swear they’ll start negotiations soon.”

“I’ll go talk to Jules,” Lion said, standing to leave. “Let him know about the change in plans. Jaguar, you gonna be okay for that long?”

I gave a half-smile and a thumbs up, but I wasn’t feeling so hot. I could only hope they couldn’t tell.

“You’re the only guy I know who would go into septic shock and want to continue the damn mission,” Bear mumbled, threading the needle through my arm for the first stitch. He may have numbed it. It didn’t hurt as much as it should’ve. “We’re having a discussion about your distinct lack of self-preservation the second we’re back on base.”

“I’m not septic yet,” I defended weakly.

Bear raised an eyebrow. “You’re on your way. Discussion is still happening.”

Tiger gave a grunt of assent, watching Lion talk to Jules outside. I lifted my head a little to look; they were by the transport vehicle not containing Hollis, the other Frenchmen milling about, keeping watch. They’d long since finished pumping gas.

Forty minutes was going to be too long, especially since this was supposed to be one of our ten minute stops. It was the perfect ambush site: one single witness, easily disposed of, no passerby’s, the middle of nowhere with no obstructions around…

“Oi,” Bear said, shocking me out of my reverie. I was sweating again, and my eyes were slipping closed. I blinked heavily up at him, his blurred features a bit difficult to make out. “Eyes open. Stay awake.”

I nodded sluggishly, glancing around. Tiger was somehow keeping a watchful eye on both us and Lion, and holding my saline bag at the same time. Bear put a hand on my forehead and I flinched, not expecting the cool touch. It felt good against my overheated skin; I resisted the urge to lean into his touch, like I had Jack’s when I was younger, and she’d check for a fever.

“You’re too hot,” he mumbled. “How do you feel?”

“A bit better,” I said quietly, because I knew that’s what he wanted to hear. “The fluids…are helping.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “You’re a bad liar, kiddo.”

I barked an exhausted laugh. “Sure.” If only he knew.

“Talk to me about something. Whatever you want. I want you to stay alert,” he said, taking the saline bag from Tiger. “Can you go find him a water bottle or something?”

“Yeah. Keep an eye out,” Tiger responded, slipping from the van with one last backward glance.

“What do you…want me to talk about?” I asked, blinking sweat out of my eyes. I felt bloody _awful_.

“Anything,” he said, holding the bag up a bit higher. “What do you like to do in your free time? Not that we ever have any.”

I gave a breathless laugh. “Um…I like to…read, I suppose.”

He nodded. “Tiger likes to read, too. I never liked it, but I suppose that’s because I spent so much time reading textbooks.” He gave me a half-smile, glancing worriedly at the opening of the van. “Lion’s picky about his books. I guess—”

But he never got to finish, because at that second, a thunderous explosion shook the entire world. At least, that’s what it felt like.

We had no idea where it had come from, but it was placed and detonated with enough force to send the multi-ton transport van groaning onto its side.

Bear and I were both thrown from out places on the floor, crashing into the side as the van capsized. The world spun violently for several seconds even after I’d stopped moving, my body throbbing from where it had slammed into the unforgiving steel. My ears rang from the shockwave, sound muted and fuzzy when it finally reached me.

Blinking heavily, rolling onto my side with monumental effort, I saw Bear lying a few feet away from me, still and silent. The saline bag lay forgotten a few feet from his hand. My vision swam, my head throbbing. Gingerly I touched my temple, only for my fingers to come away bloody.

I heard shouting and gunshots outside the van, but a quick glance revealed nothing but smoke and overturned vehicles. The storefront was demolished, from what little I saw. Bear and I were too exposed; we needed to get out of here, and I couldn’t carry us both.

“Bear,” I said, but I dissolved into a coughing fit, my heart beating sporadically and my lungs choking on the smoke and ash in the air. “ _Bear_ , wake up.”

But he just lay there. For a second my heart skipped a beat, and I thought he was dead—he was very, very still. With another Herculean burst of strength and grit, I dragged myself to his side, shaking his chest. “Come on, man…”

There. A deep inhale, an exhale of breath. I put two clumsy, shaking fingers against his throat, and collapsed in relief when I felt a steady, strong heartbeat. Just unconscious, then.

Drawing in another ragged breath, feeling my strength ebb with each second, I felt around his scalp for a wound, and—yep, there it was, right at the back. It was a nasty headwound, bleeding freely, but his pulse was strong, and his breathing normal, if not a bit shallow. He’d probably have a hell of a headache and a moderate concussion, but he’d be alright, unless any complications popped up.

“Bear,” I said again, shaking his chest weakly. Shit, this wasn’t getting us anywhere…

Another round of chaos ensued outside, the ringing in my ears diminished to where I could try to make out words. Something about the package, enemies, and being surrounded. Well, that sounded bloody perfect.

I guessed our best bet, since I was bloody useless at the moment, was to wait here in the relative safety of the bullet-proof van until our allies could get rid of the enemy or come get us. I hated that those were the only two options, as I generally _hated_ putting my life in someone else’s hands, but I was barely conscious as it was.

I kept a hand on Bear’s throat, monitoring his pulse in an attempt to feel useful. He was fine, and I hoped he’d stay that way.

Voices got closer to the opening of the truck, and I risked a glance, unable to tell whose voice it was. I couldn’t tell who was speaking.

Someone had removed the gun from my waistband before they’d laid me in the truck, so I scanned the floor (well, what used to be the wall, and was now the floor) for it, only to see it lying at the absolute opposite end of the truck, having slid away from us when the truck had flipped.

It might as well have been a mile away.

I had a knife strapped to my ankle under my cargo pants, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold out in a hand-to-hand fight. God, this sucked. Why had I thought the SAS was a good idea, again?

Shocked out of my musings by a clang in the open end of the truck, I whipped around fast enough to knock me flat, my head spinning. Struggling to get my arms under me, I looked up, hoping to see Lion or Tiger or one of the Frenchmen ready to drag us to relative safety, or at least give us some backup if we _were_ ambushed.

My breath caught in my throat as I followed the orange pants up to the face.

Hollis’ smug smile was swimming in and out of focus, but I would recognize it anywhere.

“Hey, soldier boy,” he said, the chains gone from his wrists and ankles. “Looks like you’re in a rough spot.”

I swallowed, and out of sheer willpower, forced my swaying body up onto my knees, putting myself between him and Bear.

Before I could come up with a worthy retort, another man I didn’t recognize appeared behind him, followed by a third, both toting machine guns. The were spraying bullets towards the edge of the building, and I could only assume that was were Lion and Tiger and the others had taken cover.

“Fred, we’re taking some heavy fire,” a man with a thick Irish accent said, glancing back. He caught my eye and looked quickly at Bear. “Hostages?”

“Yep,” Hollis said, and my heartbeat quickened. I swayed where I was, wondering how quickly I could get to my gun—it was twenty feet away, and I knew I’d never make it in time, but I had to do _something_. “One of them is my special friend, and I’d hate to leave without a proper goodbye.”

Bear was still dead to the world behind me, and I didn’t want to let him fall into their hands when I was the only thing standing in the way. “Take me,” I said shakily, barely able to get the words out. “But leave him.”

“What a good martyr,” Hollis said, peeking back out around the edge of the van, searching for something. “How long til the transport?”

“Two minutes,” the other man said, Irish like the first. “Hollis, you really know how to land yourself in some shit situations, brother. This is a cluster.”

Something about this was…off. This whole time, we’d been protecting Hollis from people out to kill him, so why…did this seem like a rescue?

In a sudden epiphany, it all clicked in my addled mind, and my eyes widened in realization. The way he talked so incessantly…the way they knew exactly where we were, all the time…

I was reminded of my exploding earring from Point Blanc, and it all fell into place.

“Your jewelry,” I mumbled, sagging under my own weight. My arm burned fiercely, and my body ached like I’d just fallen from a third story window. “They’re…”

This rescue had been planned since before Hollis was even captured.

“Oh, I knew you were a quick one,” Hollis said quickly, jogging inside towards me. I tried to back up, but I could barely remain upright. He gripped my upper arm—the injured one—and I screamed in pain, latching onto him with my other hand in an attempt to fend him off.

“Don’t make a fuss, and I won’t do anything…unsavory, okay?” Hollis said with a smile. “And you’re right, about the jewelry. I’ve been playing you for fools all along. Sorry, I know relationships are built on trust, but I don’t think you would’ve cooperated with my friends.”

The bar in his lip…the jewels in his ears…I’d be willing to bet my life the bar was a microphone of some kind, picking up the vibrations of his lips as he spoke, transmitting the sound waves to someone else. That’s why he kept…talking about the landscape, the names of the towns. I’d be willing to bet one of his studs was a tracker of some kind, as well.

I was on the verge of unconsciousness when Hollis hauled me to a standing position, and I sagged in his grip, the pain of his hand around the infected wound overwhelming. “Take the other one,” he said to one of the Irishmen. “Two hostages are better than one.”

“No,” I said quickly, not really knowing why I was so hellbent on making sure Bear stayed here, but it gave me something to focus on so I didn’t pass out. I stumbled along as Hollis dragged me to the opening, supporting most of my weight. “Leave him…”

“I admire your tenacity, kid, but from a tactical perspective, two hostages are much better,” he said distractedly. “And I doubt your buddies will be willing to blow our car with two of their friends inside.”

Without preamble, he sent a heavy fist into my stomach. Normally, the blow would’ve been easily blocked, or quickly shaken off, but the infection was wreaking havoc on my body. The needle had been torn from my arm during the chaos, and I was getting worse. As it was, my spasming lungs couldn’t inflate.

I collapsed to my side, unable to hold myself upright. Terror gripped me as unconsciousness slithered in, and I was painfully aware of how vulnerable I was, once again, to my enemies.

Well, despite my best efforts, at least I wouldn’t be alone.

The last thing I saw was one of the Irishmen heaving Bear’s limp body over his shoulder. I heard the squeal of tires, the rush of voices, and I felt foreign hands hefting me up as I slipped into unconsciousness.

My last thought were the overwhelming feelings of pain, failure…and dread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much! Please leave a comment if you want (they make me extraordinarily happy)!


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: As usual, suggestive comments, but nothing happens. Nothing will happen in this story that has anything to do with any sexual assault except for comments, to those of you who are worried it might be gearing up to something. I don’t like writing that, so I don’t. Thanks!**

Consciousness came back in waves.

It ebbed and flowed in time with the fire in my veins, my heart thudding rapidly in my chest. My breath wheezed in my lungs, shallow slivers of air barely satisfying my breathlessness. I was jostled with each step, and I soon put together that I was draped in someone’s arms, held steadily.

The knowledge was distant, and I knew I should be more panicked. I should be fighting to get away, to wake up and figure out what was going on, but I felt so bloody awful that I couldn’t make myself.

Had I gotten sick? Was Ian carrying me to bed or something? Why did that sound so wrong?

Muted voices were chattering around me, but they all seemed too far away to be from the person carrying me. My limbs hung bonelessly, swaying with each step. God, I’d never felt so sick…were we to my bed yet? And why was it so cold?

I was jolted further into awareness when whoever was holding me stumbled, coming dangerously close to dropping me before righting himself, muttering a quiet curse laced with pain and exhaustion. It was distinctly not Ian’s voice.

Wait. I knew them. That was…that was Bear.

In an instant, everything came flooding back. _I’m…Matthew. Not Alex, Matthew Smith…Ian’s dead, Jack’s dead, Sabina’s dead…I joined the SAS to hide, and I’m Jaguar…and right now…_

Shit.

_I’m a bloody hostage._

“It’d be easier if ye carried him over yer shoulder,” a deep Irish voice commented, sounding exasperated. “Moving at de pace of a glacier, ye are.”

“I can’t,” Bear said, and I could hear the exhaustion clearer now. He didn’t sound much better than I felt. He readjusted his grip on me, his arms shaking. “His blood pressure is nearly bottoming out. The last thing he needs is to be upside down.”

“Want me to take him for a while?” A new voice said, one that sent shivers up and down my spine, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. Whose—

Shit. Hollis.

“No,” Bear said resolutely, his voice little more than a growl.

Hollis laughed. “Just offering to help. You SAS kids are birds of a feather, aren’t you?”

“What?”

I heard a pause, letting myself gradually adjust to the world, trying to control the pain wracking my arm and shoulder. Hollis voice started again. “When we came in, you were out cold, and he dragged himself in front of you like a little guard dog. He told us to take him and not you. Adorable, really.”

Bear didn’t respond. His arms tightened imperceptibly.

Oh. I had done that, hadn’t I? Fat lot of good it did now.

The last thing I remembered as I wracked my pounding head was being loaded into a car. I assumed we’d stopped somewhere and had to continue on foot, but I didn’t know where we were going or why we were abandoning the faster method of transportation. It didn’t feel like we were moving very quickly.

I felt Bear’s arms quiver more heavily under my weight, his chest heaving in breaths, but he didn’t let go, and he kept moving. I didn’t know why he was doing that for me. I _did_ , but…it didn’t make sense. I remembered he probably had a nasty concussion…he was killing himself to make sure I didn’t deteriorate or that Hollis or the others didn’t touch me.

Bloody hell. I didn’t deserve them as a unit. They were far too good for me.

I came to fully in that moment, intent on taking some of the pressure off of Bear, but I wasn’t sure how well I could support myself.

I groaned, rolling my head on Bear’s arm where it lolled and trying to lift it, opening my eyes. I felt him come to a stop as my vision cleared.

“Jaguar?” He asked, his voice rough in poorly disguised relief. I blinked up at him, squinting in the sunlight.

“Where…?” I breathed, trying to get a firmer handle on the situation.

“Oh, soldier boy’s awake,” Hollis’ voice commented, and I heard him coming closer, branches snapping under his feet. Bear took a step back, turning slightly, moving me away from him.

I heard Hollis chuckle as I tried to keep my eyes open, taking in our surroundings. “I’m not going to do anything. Just checking on the well-being of my hostages.”

As far as I could tell, we were somewhere in one of the Czech forests—I couldn’t have been out long enough for us to flee the country, and there was no way they’d been able to pass through a border with two passengers unconscious and bleeding. They must have ditched the vehicle and were continuing through the forest to a extraction site or a safehouse of some kind to plan their next move.

Through the thick branches hovering above us, I could just make out shafts of sunlight coming from the left at an angle…the sun was maybe a couple hours from setting, it seemed. My brain couldn’t do the calculations at the moment, but I filed the information away for later.

Hollis, it seemed, was walking in front of us, toting a machine gun slung over his shoulder, I supposed provided by his friends. He’d taken his jewelry out, I noticed…I supposed he no longer needed the gadgets. One of the Irishmen was with him. Turning my head slowly, my brain pounding from the head wound I’d almost forgotten about, I saw the other Irishmen and another man behind us, similar weapons in hand. I grimly recognized the unknown man—it was the man who’d been reading the newspaper behind the counter when we’d stopped for gas.

Damn, they’d had this entire thing planned.

“I can…walk,” I breathed quietly, not liking how unsteady Bear looked, though I knew I probably looked a sight worse.

“You sure?” His voice was dubious.

Swallowing, I nodded, though I wasn’t sure how much of my weight I’d be able to hold. I needed help soon, but first we had to get out of this mess.

Bear set my legs down, keeping a firm arm around my waist. Dried blood crusted his hair and neck as I got a better look at him, but he seemed to be cognizant and aware of everything going on, at least. And if he was able to carry me for God knows how long, he must be physically alright.

My knees collapsed as soon my feet hit the forest floor, but I forced myself to stand on principle, because Hollis and his band of pricks weren’t getting anymore humiliation from me.

I felt something shift on my ankle, under my pants, and nearly laughed in relief. The stupid bastards had probably assumed the gun in the truck and the one they’d probably taken from Bear had been our only weapons, doing a quick search of our pockets in their haste and calling it a day.

Amateurs.

“How do you feel?” Bear asked as we struggled to keep moving, one of my arms slung over his shoulders. He stumbled under my weight, but righted himself quickly when one of the goons behind us shoved a pistol into his back.

“…not good,” I breathed reluctantly, my left arm tucked against me in an effort to keep it stable. I tried to stay quiet so the others wouldn’t hear, in case we weren’t supposed to be talking. “Where…are we going?”

“Think they said to a cabin of some kind,” he said quietly, wincing. He must have had a killer headache. I didn’t envy him. “Spending the night to wait for a bigger transport. Dunno what they plan to do with us, though.”

I nodded slowly, trying not to aggravate my head wound, and took a shaky breath. “Right.”

“Why don’t ye quit gossiping and focus on moving yer prissy little arses a bit faster,” the Irishman in front of us growled with a backwards glance. “If we’re not dere in de next hour, so help me, I’ll shoot one of ye.”

Well, that would suck, considering we were both already unsteady.

“Offer stands if you need an extra shoulder,” Hollis threw back with a smirk, and I steadfastly avoided his gaze, sweat rolling into my eyes despite the cold.

Bear tried to take a bit more of my weight, but I shook my head, hissing in pain. “Don’t. You’re barely…moving as it is.”

Bear took a steadying breath. “Hate to tell you, mate, but…you’re on a downward slope. I’m a lot more worried about you than me.”

I didn’t comment.

We moved steadily, stopping once to rest when I well and truly felt like I was about to keel over, much to Hollis’ amusement. Fifty minutes and some change later, we arrived at a disheveled looking cabin standing firm against the elements, the wood weathered and the iron porch rail considerably rusted.

“Get them inside,” Irishman 1 ordered, the fake store attendant and Irishman 2 corralling us inside. “Hollis.”

Hollis, after a wink in my direction, and he began talking in hushed voices, keeping an eye out as they did so, while we stumbled inside the little cabin.

There was a kitchenette to one side, the sparse counterspace covered in dust and leaves. A rusty tin coffee pot sat on the gas stove, which looked like it had been built with spare parts from a forgotten rubbish yard. The chair and couch in what was supposed to be the sitting room were covered with clear plastic, also shrouded in dust. A thin hallway led to what I assumed was a bedroom and bathroom, but we didn’t get that far.

Irishman 2 kicked aside the rug with his foot, grabbing the metal ring protruding from the floor and heaving, revealing a short ladder and a dark, dank basement, covered in cobwebs. From what I could see, a naked bulb hung from the ceiling, earthen walls filled with weeds and crumbling remnants of brick.

Shit. This was going to make escape loads harder.

Getting down was tricky, but somehow, we managed. “Behave yerselves and we’ll consider killing ye quickly,” one of the Irishmen said with a smirk.

Bear helped me slump against one of the rough walls, dirt staining my hair as I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, panting. The heavy boom or the trap door and the rustling of the rug being replaced was thunderous, and I know Bear saw me flinch.

“Shit,” he echoed my thoughts, running a hand through his blood-stained hair and standing, walking the small basement. It had obviously been brick-walled, once, but probably decades of disuse and elemental weathering had reduced it to little more than an earthen cellar. “ _Shit_.”

I agreed with him.

“We have…to get out,” I panted, using most of my strength just to keep my head up.

“Obviously, mate. How?” Bear asked, hands on his hips as he surveyed the space, his lanky frame stooping as his head brushed the low ceiling. “Unless you want to go completely _Shawshank Redemption_ …”

I gave a breathless laugh, gripping my arm as another wave of fire speared through me. “That’s exactly…the plan.”

Bear raised a dubious eyebrow. “Please, James Bond. Give me the plan.”

“My…right ankle…” I said, nodding to my foot. “Didn’t…find my knife.” I coughed shakily, my breathing shallow. “The bricks are…loose enough to…pry away, and the knife will help you…with the thicker patches of…of dirt.”

I gasped, shutting my eyes against the exhaustion and panic I could feel welling up inside of me. I was deteriorating quickly. “You’ve gotta…work quickly.”

Bear didn’t question it, rolling up my dirt-stained cargo pants and unsheathing the knife, setting it aside. He put a hand on my forehead, glancing at my wound. The bandages were bloodied and yellow, dirt staining the outside.

“You’re not doing well,” he said quietly, eyes worried. “Lie flat, come on.”

With a wince and a lot of Bear’s help, I managed to get myself lying flat, which made breathing easier. He rolled up his windbreaker and put it under my head, leaving him in just his long-sleeved shirt. The weather was too cold for that.

To make matters worse, he knelt beside my injured arm and used the knife to cut off his sleeves, slitting one side, and began to peel away the soiled bandages.

I couldn’t stop the grunt of pain that left me, my back arching off the ground as the inflamed, open wound was pulled. “Sorry,” he said quietly, eyes focused. “I don’t have anything to disinfect it, but we need to get something relatively clean on it. With the dust and dirt down here, your infection is going to get a lot worse if we don’t.”

I nodded breathlessly, my muscles coiled tight as he continued. “Bloody… _hell_ …”

He laughed, but it was humorless. “Yeah, yell at me all you want, mate.”

He finished quickly, tying off the makeshift bandage as tightly as he could without sending me back into unconsciousness. “That should hold for a while.”

I rolled my head across the makeshift pillow, breathing heavily. “Get started…now, then. Start on…the place where…the dirt crumbles fastest, and…go quickly.” I closed my eyes, thinking as quickly as my addled mind could manage. “Find a spot on…the back wall where they…can’t see if they don’t come down. How long…did you carry me?”

I wasn’t under any illusion that we’d have infinite time alone down here, but working with what I had, this was the best I could come up with. The earth was loose this time of year, with late summer rains loosening the dirt. Two distinct voices were above us, which meant that two were probably outside, patrolling. We’d take their own strategy, the one they used on us at our campsite, and Bear would sneak out when they came in to change guards. We’d be listening, and the second there was a different voice, he’d go.

I hadn’t yet told him he’d be going alone. I had a feeling he wouldn’t take that too well.

Bear was feeling around the walls, knife in hand. Heavy footsteps echoing above the wooden floor stopped him cold, muffled voices filtering through the floorboards, but we didn’t hear the rustle of the rug. He continued, saying quietly, “Maybe two hours. I woke up in the back of the car, and we stopped…I dunno, half an hour later. Ditched the car and continued on foot. I’m not sure how long we’d been in there.”

I nodded, running calculations as quickly as I could. “It was…11:30 ish, when we stopped…you carried me two hours…we continued for an hour…when I woke, the sun was…maybe…I dunno, it might’ve been around four o’clock…”

I distantly remembered that it was late October, and Prague had undergone its time change. “No…three…Ian said late October meant…everybody in Europe set the clocks back…”

I took a shaky breath, coughing weakly and ignoring Bear’s worried look before continuing, listening to the steady scraping of the knife in the wall. “So it’s probably…four now…three miles an hour, maybe…we walked nine miles…and drove for an hour and a half…”

I swallowed. God, what I would give for some water. “When they ditched…the car…what did you see…?”

“We ditched it in a rubbish yard, I think,” Bear said, voice strained as he worked steadily at the wall. “There was an office, but no one seemed to be in it. I’m not sure if there was an arrangement or if they just took advantage of an empty scrap yard.”

I nodded, swallowing again. “Let’s hope…the latter. Can you get back to the…the yard?”

Bear continued, his pace quickening as the plan began to take hold. “I think so. This is…actually easier than it looks.”

I laughed breathlessly. “It’s actually…a lot easier to…tunnel through loose dirt than people think. Make it…small so you…don’t compromise the foundation, and…maybe fourteen or so feet long,” I breathed. That should get him past the house of the wall with some buffer room. “How far…in are you…?”

“A foot or so,” he said, grunting as he wrestled with what I assumed was a particularly stubborn root. “Dirt keeps falling from the ceiling and getting in my _bloody_ way…”

A foot…that was actually good progress for such a short time. The dirt must’ve been looser than I thought. I figured it would take him…eight hours, maybe, and then we’d wait for the changing of the guard. Luckily, he’d have the night to hide him.

“You’re going to get dirty,” I supplied, shifting with a hiss of pain. “When the time comes…you’ll need to…crawl like hell, and dig up. Digging up will be a lot easier than…than this. Hold your breath, don’t breathe…in the dust or dirt…if you can, and when you reach…the forest floor, run like hell.”

Bear stopped, then, and turned, incredulity painting his usually buoyant features. “You’re absolutely not asking me to leave you here.”

“Keep going,” I insisted. “We don’t have time. And…yes, I am. You can’t…carry me and run, and I’m…bloody useless right now.”

Bear, begrudgingly, kept digging, but that didn’t stop the argument like I hoped it would. “I’m not leaving you here, Jaguar. You heard Lion. No man left behind.”

Ah, shit. I didn’t have the energy to argue this right now. “It’s not up for…debate.”

“I outrank you,” Bear reminded me pointedly. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re _dying_ , Jaguar. If I leave you here by yourself, who knows what they’ll do to you when they find me missing? And I am absolutely bloody not leaving you with Hollis, that creep.”

All excellent points. That didn’t invalidate my argument, though. “How quickly…could you travel ten miles…carrying me? Not stopping?”

He was silent for a second, only the sounds of muted voices laughing above us and loose dirt falling as he dug. “I don’t know, Jaguar. Maybe…maybe four hours or so.”

I resisted the urge to scoff, breathing heavily. That was generous. I’d give it no less than five. “And alone?”

“I’m _not_ leaving you here.” He didn’t want to prove my point, then.

“I know…you don’t want to. I don’t want…to be left behind,” I admitted quietly, staring resolutely at the ceiling. It swayed and dipped, my vision fading in and out. “But…the others…can’t track us. Not with…with how careful these guys are. And I…Bear, you said it. I’m dying. I can’t…stand, let alone run, and you’ll _need_ …to run.”

He didn’t say anything, his actions growing more aggressive. I heard him curse under his breath. “I need…help, and…I’m not going to get it…here. If you can…get to the others before the…transport arrives, we have…a shot.” I breathed shakily. “They’re _going_ to kill us. We stay…we both die. You take me…we both die. You go…we both…have a chance.”

“And what if, when they find out I’m gone, they cut their losses and kill you, huh?” He asked angrily, swiping a dirty hand through his hair. “What then?”

I swallowed. “They took hostages…for a reason. They’ll probably need me…to bargain their way out…of the country or through airspace,” I reasoned quietly. “And Hollis…much as I hate it…I don’t think he’s…finished taunting me. And his ego is huge, so…I doubt he’ll let them…kill me.” I hoped, anyways.

He didn’t respond. Despite the panic in my heart, the pain wracking my body, I took it as a win.

…

We had a scare three hours later when Hollis opened the trap door to taunt us, but luckily, he didn’t come down. Bear adjusted himself to stand in front of the hole he’d made so much progress on, his hands shaking.

I heard the rug rustle, rousing me from the doze I’d slipped into, and my heart skipped a beat of panic as I heard Bear scuttling quickly back to the room, hastily shaking the dirt from his sandy hair. The lock clinked as he haphazardly moved bricks quickly to the entrance, coving a portion of the small hole before he stood quickly, moving a few paces away as the door opened.

Hollis crouched at the entrance, and I opened my eyes slowly, blinking him into focus. “How you doing, soldier boy?”

I didn’t respond, a weak cough rattling my lungs. He held a water bottle in his hand, and I couldn’t help but hope it was for us. I was so dehydrated I was sure that would kill me before the infection.

“He’s not well,” Bear said after a second of hesitation, his voice quiet, but confident. I glanced at him. He was standing at his full height (well, as much as he could when his taller-than-average frame brushed the ceiling) hands fisted at his sides. His face betrayed none of the fear he must have felt, and I suddenly knew exactly how he’d passed Selection—the guy may have been the Energizer Bunny on some occasions, but he was a damn good soldier. “He needs water and clean bandages.”

Hollis raised an eyebrow. “Making demands now? I guess I picked some high-maintenance hostages.” He shrugged, his predatory grin sending shivers down my spine as he glanced my way. “What do you think, kiddo? What are you willing to trade?”

“He’s barely _conscious_ ,” Bear cut in, anger coloring his words.

Hollis smirked, and I closed my heavy eyes, electing to listen to the interaction rather than participate. “Fine, then. I’ll come back later, when my friends are asleep, and we can…retry this conversation.” I opened my eyes in time to see him waggle the water bottle, open it, and take a long drag before closing the heavy door without another word.

Bear let out a string of expletives under his breath, dragging a dirt-covered hand down his face. His dark skin let the dirt blend in more, luckily, so Hollis wouldn’t have known that he’d been digging.

Bear came to sit beside me, hand settling on my shoulder. “Stay awake, Jaguar.”

“Mm,” I managed, eyes closed. “How long…?”

I couldn’t finish, but he got it. How long did I have before the sepsis killed me?

Bear might have shrugged. I wasn’t looking. “It…depends, mate. Could be a couple days…could be a couple hours.”

I nodded quietly. “Listen…if I…” I took a ragged breath, coughing weakly again. “If I…don’t…”

“Cutting you off right there,” Bear said, hand squeezing my shoulder more insistently. “You’re going to be just fine.”

I wheezed a thin laugh. “I’ve been…near death…before, Bear. Lots…lots of times.” Well, if I was dying, I might as well be a little more open. I figured Bear deserved that much. “I know…how it feels when it’s…creeping up, and I’ve…been living on…borrowed time for a while.”

There was silence for a moment, only my thin wheezing and the jeering voices from above drifting through the dank space. The air was thick, and it didn’t make breathing easier.

“Has anyone told you about Elliot?” Bear asked quietly.

I blinked, turning slowly to look at him. His hand was still on my shoulder, but his eyes were far away, his other fist clenched in his lap. His nails and fingertips were bloody, his palms raw. A wave of guilt crashed over me. Here I was giving my last words, just in case, and he was tearing his hands apart to try to get us out.

“No,” I breathed, wondering who it was. I was banking on their former unit-mate who’d died.

Bear nodded, blinking quickly. “His code name was Raven, and we sometimes called him Ell, for short. He hated them both. Said they made him sound like a girl.” A small smile curled his lips, but his eyes were far from happy. “It was…I dunno, around a year ago. We were in Iran, helping the British and American militaries with a stealth op. The mission was kind of like this one—a cluster from the start. Murphy’s Law.

“Anyways, we were pinned down by enemy fire out in the open, us and two other teams. Our formation was shot to hell, along with a couple of the other soldiers. We were practically surrounded.” He looked away, his dark eyes hard, glinting like steel in the dim light. “I got clipped in the shoulder. Nothing bad, only took two months for a full recovery, but…I was bleeding pretty badly, and it knocked me out for a minute. I was shot out in the open trying to get to another injured guy behind one of the other jeeps, so I was completely exposed, bullets kicking up sand all around me…it’s a miracle I wasn’t hit again.

“Elliot raced out to grab me and haul me back under heavy enemy fire—didn’t even wait for cover. He took three bullets and he still kept dragging me. I could hear him, cussing up a storm, even as he was dragging me.” He dragged a hand down his ashen face, leaning his head back against the wall. “When we got back behind our cover, Tiger started helping me, and Lion started helping Ell, but…he bled out twenty minutes later. One bullet clipped his brachial artery, another clipped his femoral artery, another damn near blew out his knee, and the bastard still managed to drag me to safety.”

He shook his head, his hand tightening on my shoulder, shocking me out of his memory and back to the present. “Don’t make me do that again. Don’t…I can’t do that again, Jaguar. I know we haven’t known each other long, but you’re a friend, whether you planned it or not. So you’re damn well going to stay alive until the others and I get back, guns blazing, and get you to a hospital, or I’m going to kill you myself, and that’s a promise.”

He grinned, a shadow of his buoyant personality rising to the surface, but his eyes were still serious. It was a complete turnaround from the chipper man I’d grown to know. “Guess I should get back to it. I’ve said my piece, so…shut up.”

I breathed a quiet laugh, trying to keep my wheezing to a minimum. Composing myself, dragging in enough air to get the words out, I tried to say my piece. “I guess…after your heartfelt declaration…I’ll have to do my best.”

“Damn right.”

I smiled, feeling safe to close my eyes and slip back under, if only for a bit.

…

I woke what I assumed was a few hours later to someone shaking my shoulder, his dark eyes worried. “Hm?”

“Thank God,” he said, his head dropping low as his shoulders slumped in relief. “Christ, I thought you were a goner. I was shaking you for two and a half minutes.”

I blinked, the words barely making sense. “Uh…”

“Just…just rest,” he said, patting my chest with a heavy hand. He smiled, I supposed in an attempt to make sure I wasn’t worried. What did I have to be worried about? “I managed to dig all the way…you’ve been sleeping for a long time. They came once to check up on us, but nobody came down. Figure that’d be a stupid move on their part, anyhow.”

I nodded absently, blinking. “What’re you…digging?”

His eyes shot to me, concern creasing his brow. He looked way too young to have that many wrinkles. “The tunnel. To escape…Jaguar, do you know where you are?”

I blinked again, the ceiling and his face swimming in and out of focus. “Oh. I…we’re…trapped? In…In India. We were trying to…stop McCain from…poisoning everyone. I…wait, you’re not Rahim…”

“I’m Bear,” he said quickly, putting a hand on my forehead. Bear sounded familiar. “You’re not in…in India, Jaguar, you’re in the Czech Republic, with me. Remember? We were escorting a prisoner?”

I blinked. “Why would…MI6 have me…escort a prisoner?”

It was Bear’s turn to blink in surprise, his eyebrows almost touching his hairline. “No, you’re…with the SAS, mate. Your codename is Jaguar.”

Taking a shaky breath, the fog cleared in an instant, and my memories became fuzzy. “I…oh. Bear.”

“Yeah. It’s me.”

“I…what was I…?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a tight smile. “Listen carefully. Do you remember what we were doing?”

Breathing heavily, I nodded. “I…you’re…digging. Waiting for…the guard change…”

He nodded, his eyes hard as steel once again. “I…do you remember what you said I had to do?”

I nodded, remembering now. Panic seized my heart in a vise, and I almost begged him to stay. To not leave me alone in the cold, dark dungeon to die. Because I was sure we both knew that there was a very slim chance he would get back in time. Either the infection would kill me, or they’d shoot me.

“Go,” I whispered, not having the strength for little else. My arm burned with a fierceness I hoped I’d never feel again, sweat rolling into my eyes even as dehydration wracked my frame with cramps. “Take…the knife…run as…as fast as you…bloody can. Just…”

Bear took my shoulders, gearing up to say something, but he looked quickly up as voices filtered through the wooden floor.

Three different voices…then…then four. Heavy laughter. They were changing guards, and their guard was down.

It was now or never.

“Go,” I said, pushing weakly at his chest, blinking my heavy eyes. “Go. _Run_.”

For a split second, Bear looked utterly torn. We both knew I was damn near out of time. I could tell he wanted with everything in him to stay. With everything in me, I wanted him to stay.

“You listen to me,” he said, a hard edge to his voice. His hands gripped my shoulders almost painfully, which helped me focus on him. “I am coming back for you. You understand me? I’m damn well going to get you out of here, so you’d better be alive.”

I nodded, giving him a weak smile. It was all I could do. I couldn’t tell him how badly I wanted him to stay. I couldn’t tell him how much I didn’t want to die alone, surrounded by my enemies. I didn’t tell him.

“I’ll be here,” I lied, the words bitter in my mouth. “Go.”

With one last squeeze, wet eyes, and an angry grunt that was surely far too loud, he tore himself away from me, running to the hole. He tossed the bricks aside, which he’d replaced for cover, and crawled.

A few seconds later, ears peeled desperately for any sound, I heard the dirt falling as he clawed his way up out of the earth. I heard his muted grunts and gasps as he levered himself up, his tall frame helping him reach the top quickly.

I closed my eyes, exhaling a rattling breath, still listening intently. I heard the dirt fall, his shoes skid against the sides of the vertical tunnel…and then nothing.

And then, a few seconds later, chaos and shouting.

I opened my eyes, praying to any God listening that they didn’t catch him. I heard things like “After him,” and “Shoot the bastard!” Spurts of machine gun fire echoed through the floor, rattling the dirt walls. They were shooting for a long time before curses finally filtered through the floor, words of anger and frustration. Words of failure.

And despite everything, I managed a weak laugh, raising my good arm to wipe the sweat from my brow.

He’d done it. He’d escaped.

No matter what happened now, he’d bloody escaped. No matter what they did to me now, I wouldn’t have to add his name to the list of people I’d killed.

I had a few seconds to rest, to soak in the feeling of relief that Bear was away and help was coming eventually, before heavy boots stomped into the upstairs so hard dust and dirt fell from the ceiling.

The rug was thrown away and the trap door was wrenched open. Dimly feeling Bear’s jacket still under my head, I rolled over in an attempt to prop myself up against the wall and salvage some of my dignity, but they didn’t even bother using the ladder. Irishman 2 dropped down into the cellar with murder in his eyes.

He didn’t even waste a word before he sent a vicious kick to my midsection. I cried out in pain and surprise, the movement having jostled my arm, my surely failing organs squeezing at the treatment. My heart thudded against my chest far too quickly.

“You little _shit_ ,” he spat, surveying the room before finding the hole in the wall. “Son of a _bitch_.”

I struggled to breathe, my lungs spasming as my eyelids fell heavy. I distantly saw Hollis drop down behind his friend, the other two stomping around upstairs, yelling in angry voices. They sounded like they were fighting.

Through blurred vision, I caught a glimpse of Hollis’ face, and my gut dropped.

And suddenly, I realized I’d probably miscalculated, because I’d forgotten exactly who Hollis was. Thus far, his comments had been dehumanizing and cruel and scathing, but I’d been able to handle them. In my mind, that meant I was able to handle him.

Now, looking at the cold beady eyes that focused on my prone frame, understanding just how defenseless I was against this monster…

…maybe I should’ve gone with Bear after all.

The thought didn’t take long for me to get rid of, considering if I’d done that, we’d both be dead. I had a feeling, though, that I may have preferred that to the alternative.

“I’ll give you this, soldier boy,” Hollis said, his voice cold and flat, his tone completely unlike the teasing lilt he’d maintained until now. “You got me. I wasn’t expecting a _Shawshank_ escape. But let me promise you this.”

He crouched beside my head, his movements slow and deliberate, everything done to instill fear and control. I tried to move away, sluggishly adjusting myself, but he fisted a hand in the hair at the base of my neck, wrenching my head up to face him.

I could only stare as the murder in his eyes grew darker.

“Your friend may have escaped, but you’re going to be the one to pay for it. And trust me. You _will_ pay for it.”

My shallow breath hitched in my chest, and despite how well I’d done until now to avoid his eyes, I couldn’t tear myself away from his gaze.

With another few seconds of the stare, my body absolutely immobile in fear, he released me. I slumped against the ground, my hand brushing Bear’s jacket.

“Don’t shoot him,” Hollis ordered, his words cold. “He’s a waste of bullets at this point. We’re going to go upstairs and figure out how to proceed.” He put a foot on the ladder, turning back to me. “And then you’re going to tell us every damn thing you know about your friends, and when they’re going to get here. You’re going to squeal every last secret, boy. I’ll make damn sure of it.”

And he and Irishman 2 disappeared up the ladder, the heavy thud of the door even more final than before.

The difference was that now, I was alone in the damp, dark hole.

Back to normal, I supposed.

My last thought before drifting off was that I hoped Bear ran bloody fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Sorry about another cliffie XD


	12. Chapter 12

**WARNING: more suggestive comments, emotional abuse, and a naughty word. All you eleven and twelve year olds who lied about your age to get on this site, don’t repeat these words.**

I slipped in and out of consciousness for the next little while; I couldn’t tell exactly how long it had been. It felt simultaneously like days and less than an hour.

I’d never known sepsis was so horrible. The pain was all-consuming, starting in my arm and tracing lines of fire through my veins, stretching to every part of me. I couldn’t wiggle my toes without something hurting. Sleep was a respite from the pain, but it was also a chance to escape from the fear. No matter how addled my mind was, or how off I felt, I remembered Hollis’ threat, and I was well and truly terrified.

The problem was I’d never been this incapacitated. I’d been drugged past the point of mobility several times, sure, but drugs eventually wore off, and I’d found a means of escape. Despite the unique terror of every situation, there was always a way for me to get myself out, eventually.

Sepsis didn’t fade. It got worse, and made me feel more horrible and so much closer to death with every second that ticked by. I had enough strength left to open my eyes and barely shift my body, and that was it. Anything else required energy I didn’t have and caused crippling pain I couldn’t handle at the moment.

I was completely dependent on Bear and the others, and that was terrifying to me after relying on no one but myself for so long.

Despite Bear’s promise, the way he’d worked so quickly, tearing up his hands and fingers to get out so he could bring them back, a traitorous voice in my mind whispered that he wasn’t coming back. Or, perhaps that they would let me die and play the long game with Hollis and the others, trapping them inside until they surrendered. Or they’d just burn the whole damn place to the ground and leave me to burn with them.

I closed my eyes, wheezing shakily. They wouldn’t. They wouldn’t leave me here. The SAS was different from MI6—that was why I’d trusted them at all in the first place. The SAS valued their teammates.

_My men come first, not the mission, Jaguar_. Lion’s words rang in my ears. _I don’t know how it was where you came from, but that’s how it is in the SAS._

They’d come back for me. I just had to hold onto that. They were coming back.

Unfortunately, I’d probably be dead long before they got here. Hollis didn’t seem too keen on giving me the five-star treatment, and the sepsis didn’t seem to be going away any time soon.

I wouldn’t say I was at peace with dying, because I wasn’t. I definitely didn’t want to die at the hands of a monster like him, or at the mercy of this infection invading every part of me. I didn’t want to die alone, or afraid, in this dark, cold basement with nothing but a jacket and an impossible promise for comfort.

But I knew, just like I’d told Bear, that I’d been living on borrowed time ever since I stepped off the sidewalk.

No, maybe that wasn’t right. Maybe since Nadia Vole died in my place when the Portuguese Man O’War landed on top of her.

I took a shaky breath, trying to stifle a cough. My lungs were barely inflating anymore. I wondered how much damage was being done to me on the inside. Even if I survived, would I even be able to continue in the SAS? If they tried to discharge me, how would I keep it a secret that I had nowhere to go, and no one to care for me if God forbid I was paralyzed, or had to have something amputated, or worse?

I tried to push the thoughts from my mind—worrying about what would happen if I survived wouldn’t help me actually survive.

The rustle of the rug and the clang of the trapdoor sent me spiraling into awareness and seized me with terror. What would he do to me?

I didn’t look at Hollis as he descended the ladder, landing with a small grunt. Instead, I kept my eyes closed, trying to ignore him. To ignore the situation. To mentally distance myself, to convince myself that this was a nightmare, and I was safe at home with Jack and Ian, however impossible.

“Did I catch you taking a nap?” Hollis asked, his tone thin and flat.

I didn’t respond, turning my head towards him slightly. If he was going to torment me, I was at least going to look him in the eye while he did it. I would have preferred to stand, but that wasn’t an option at the moment. I couldn’t respond, either. I would have preferred to make a witty comeback.

“Awake, then,” he conceded, approaching me. “You know, soldier boy, you’ve caused me a shit ton of trouble.”

I blinked heavily, wondering how he’d kill me, when he did. Would he beat me to death? Would he poison me, or just shoot me? Or would he leave me here for the infection or the elements to kill me?

What would he do before that?

With a noise of discomfort, he crouched beside me, grabbing my jaw and turning my face towards him. I flinched away from him, but even that sent waves of pain through me. Blinking heavily, his face swam in and out of focus. Clumsily, I reached up with my right hand to tug at his wrist in a frail effort of resistance, but he just grabbed my wrist and held it in the air, smirking. “You couldn’t kill a fly right now.”

“Maybe…n-not me, but…” I took a steadying breath, looking him in the eye with as much strength as I could. “They…will.”

He laughed, shoving me away. I grunted in pain, but I refused to look away from him. If this was all I could do, I was going to damn well do it.

“I didn’t take you for the loyal type,” he admitted, sitting down beside my head, leaning over me. “You seem like more of a lone wolf. Aside from your heroic display in the truck, of course.” He shifted, propping a hand on his chin. “Let’s recap. You’ve been without food and water for almost a day. From what your friend said, sepsis is going to kill you soon—within a day, I’d bet. Your friend ran off three hours ago. If he’s traveling as fast as I think he is, he’s already alerted your friends.

“Unfortunately for _you_ ,” he amended, looking back towards the open trap door, “I doubt they’ll be here for…I dunno, let’s say four or five hours. Putting together a rescue mission takes some time, and they’ll have to come on foot—the trees are too thick for vehicles to get out here. And my exfil is scheduled to be here in…oh, an hour and a half, or so. So that leaves the question…what to do with you.”

He smiled, one of his cold, cruel smiles, and I fought the urge to look away. Before I could think of a witty response, he continued, “I was going to interrogate you, and kill you. But after calming down some…it would just be a waste. You don’t look like you could say two words to save your life.”

“Yeah?” I breathed. “Screw…you.” Three words. I’d always been an overachiever.

In a fluid motion, he uncrossed his legs and his boot hit my face, sending my head snapping to the side. I coughed weakly, blood trailing from my nose and into my mouth. I didn’t even have the energy to spit it out.

“You’re not easily broken. I can see that. Which is why…I found something interesting, and I think it’ll do that trick.”

He grabbed my chin and turned my head back to face him, my face throbbing at the motion, but I held myself at a wince. I wouldn’t let him see any more signs of pain from me.

Adjusting himself, he leaned back on his hands, crossing his feet in front of him. “I’ll be the first to admit I’m an…egocentric man. How can I not be? I like to have my way. And when I set my sights on someone…I like to feel powerful by making people like you feel like nothing.” He shrugged, smirking. “What can I say? Every man has his preferences. I like to feel powerful, and to break strong young men like you who act like they can take on the world.

“Unfortunately, you’ve been giving me some trouble, and I don’t like to leave endeavors unfinished. I don’t have much time left with you. Normally I would employ… _other_ methods, some a bit more physical.” He winked at me, and though I hated myself with every fiber of my being, I looked down, feeling panic race through me. “But I have a feeling that wouldn’t work on you, especially this late in the game. No, I think…I think this’ll take away whatever hope you have left.”

He shifted, and I tensed in apprehension, my breathing shallow as I watched him warily. He took out a square piece of paper from his pocket, turning it over in his fingers before unfolding it, and I realized it was a picture.

My breath caught.

“Who’s this gorgeous young woman?” He asked, dangling the picture in front of me. The picture of Sabina that I always kept in my pocket. Always. No matter where I went or what I was doing.

He glossy dark hair was windswept, going every which way as her face was alight in laughter, her bright blue eyes dancing in mirth as she gazed at the camera. I’d taken the picture. We’d been at the beach—she’d been excited to show me the California beaches, no matter how crowded they were. A sunhat was perched precariously on her head, the brim blowing back with her hair and she held it secure with one hand. Her sundress was a dark green, her bare shoulders sun-kissed and smooth. She was beautiful, and alive.

“Give it…back,” I muttered, having half a mind to reach for it, but I knew he’d just use my weakness to taunt me.

“Not until you tell me who she is,” he countered, folding the picture back up and slipping it into his pocket, patting it. “You’ve got nothing to lose. I just want to know who she is to you.”

I couldn’t answer, because honest to God, I didn’t even know. Once upon a time, she was a friend. An amazing friend. And then she was someone I had to keep safe, despite everything against us. And then…then she was more. She was…could’ve been a girlfriend. I’d loved her. I’d loved her so much. And then, she was a sister…but above all, she’d been _there_. A constant support even after I’d had to let go of Tom. A rock standing through all the shit I suffered through, her bright smile there to drag me out of whatever hell I was in.

And then, with a single bullet, that rock had been swept away like nothing.

I closed my eyes, unable to look at his smug face. I didn’t know why he was so insistent on knowing, but…it wasn’t like he could hurt her. He couldn’t use her against me, or threaten her. She was already dead. Already dead because of me.

“Sister,” I breathed, settling for the safer option. It wasn’t like the information would help him, so I didn’t see a reason to worsen myself by agitating him.

“Your sister,” he repeated, looking intently at my face, thinking. “You don’t look much alike. You’re not lying to me, are you?”

“Adopted,” I managed, tearing my eyes away from his face to gaze at the dirt wall, at what used to be the hole Bear had dug so quickly. I’d heard them fill it from the outside somewhere on the edge of consciousness, but I couldn’t crawl out of it if I’d tried. I didn’t have the strength to _breathe_.

“Adopted sister,” he amended, nodding, looking at the wall. He smiled, shaking his head. “She’s beautiful. I would have _loved_ to have some time with her. Unfortunately, though, that’s not possible anymore, is it?”

I looked at him quickly, then, surprised. How did he know?

He smirked at the surprise on my face, heaving an exaggerated sigh. “You think a man like me gets caught, kiddo? I’m far too good for that. I was given the oddest job, you know. The last one I did before jailtime. There was a contract out on this subject, but the circumstances were odd. Usually, when I take a contract, it’s out of revenge, or a political move, or a terrorist organization power play. But this wasn’t. They simply said the subject had to die because they couldn’t get to the person they _really_ wanted. And there was the oddest condition…I’d have to turn myself in once I was done, so I could deliver a message.”

I wondered, through his monologue, why he was telling me this. Why he thought this could possibly break me, telling me of one kill of what was surely dozens for him. And then he said that, and…and it clicked. In one horrible, shattering second.

My eyes widened, and I opened my mouth to speak, but there were no words. There was nothing I could say.

“So I went to sunny California,” he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper, his smile cold and his eyes narrowed, “and I shot your sister between the eyes.”

Even as he confirmed it, I couldn’t…I couldn’t process it. With my mind as addled and dizzied as it was, I couldn’t accept the fact that…that I was staring at Sabina’s assassin.

Her murderer.

“Of course, they promised to get me out as soon as the opportunity presented itself using third-party contractors, but the pay was very nice to accommodate for all my lost time. And hey, they made good on their word—sent some friends of mine to spring me. But it was a doozy. Extradition’s a bitch, too, and I ended up all the way back here…and somehow, I found my way to _you_. Fate’s a nasty bitch, isn’t she?”

I couldn’t…I couldn’t understand. I didn’t understand. How could I…how was I looking at…at the man who killed her? At the man who, with just a twitch of one finger, ripped her away from me for the rest of my life? Took away her bright, radiant smile, her limitless future, in just a second?

“Why…” I managed, my voice breaking pathetically as I felt my throat bob. I felt the hatred pouring into my eyes, my good fist clenching in fury, adrenaline replacing the pain in my body. “ _Why_ …”

He blinked, smirking. “Because they paid me. You know, I remember, she was alone when I shot her. On her way to meet someone. Do you want to know what happened?”

Turning my head away from him, I blinked rapidly, trying very hard not to let this monster see me cry for her. He chuckled, edging closer to me, and in one swift movement, his hand was around my throat, his mouth beside my ear. I wheezed, wriggling to dislodge him, but he wasn’t budging. He wasn’t cutting off my airway, or even holding me in place, so much—it was a simple show of power. Dominance.

“She looked good that day,” he said quietly, and I stared unwaveringly at the ceiling, blinking. Breathing. Trying not to hear. “Dressed up, some makeup on. Her hair was pretty, too. She was walking, smiling. She was excited. She stopped at the crosswalk…they’d been very specific, too, shoot her at a crosswalk while she waited. She took out her phone and looked down, started typing…and I was watching her through my scope the whole time.”

I blinked, taking a shuddering breath, trying to turn away from him, but there was nowhere to go. There was nowhere to run.

“I took aim,” he said, slowly, deliberately, each word carefully selected to inflict pain, “and I made sure I had her dead center in my scope. No room for failure. I waited until she looked up. The sun was in her eyes…she was shading them with her hand, looking around. She turned back to the crosswalk, holding the strap of her bag. I waited…just another second…and then…”

The words were on my lips. The words to beg him to stop, to plead for him to quit talking. To ask him to kill me or hurt me…anything but this. Anything but this.

But I knew Sabina wouldn’t want me to give in, so with a shuddering heart, I listened.

“…then I pulled the trigger, and watched through my scope as the bullet hit her. Right between the eyes. It snapped her head backwards immediately. Blood went everywhere…the suit behind her was pretty put out, I’d imagine. I can’t imagine the dry-cleaning bill.” I heard him smirk beside me, releasing my throat and patting my chest as I looked away, my chest heaving as I tried to silence the agony in my heart. “Her body folded to the ground, and everyone started screaming, and panicking…but she didn’t move. And that was all it took to break you, I’d imagine.”

The quiet words were spoken slowly. I understood all of them. I closed my eyes as unimaginable pain wracked me, and it had nothing to do with the sepsis. Slowly, he let me go, and I turned away, quiet agony overtaking my mind.

“I told you,” he confirmed, watching me fall apart in front of him, even as I tried desperately not to. “I always get my way.”

After a moment more, watching me valiantly hold the tears at bay though I wanted nothing more than to scream in anguish at the gaping hole inside of me, where Sabina’s love and support had been unequivocally ripped from me, Hollis stood. He brushed off his orange pants, looking down on me. Keeping his eyes on mine, I stared at him with all the hatred I could muster, even as he fished the picture out of his pocket.

He smirked, tore it in half, and tossed the pieces beside me.

“Think about that until I kill you, which will be in the next hour or so,” he assured, making his way to the ladder. “Our exfil is coming soon. Do what you need to do, pray, yell, cry…but just remember you’re going to die just like she did. Alone.”

And then he was gone, the thunderous boom of the trap door just as horrible as always.

I stared at the ceiling, my chest hitching in an effort to keep my composure. In a monumental effort, I reached over with my good hand, shakily grabbing the torn picture and putting it back in my pocket. I kept with me everywhere I went, and death wouldn’t be an exception.

I shivered, but I couldn’t tell if it was from the cold, or shock. Distantly, I realized I probably needed to warm up some…but I also had a fever, so that would just work against me. I grabbed clumsily at Bear’s jacket, tugging it out from under my head and panting in exertion as I tried to spread it over my torso in some effort for comfort.

It was warm. It helped a bit.

Despite being on the brink of death, having absolutely no energy left in my body, the adrenaline needed an outlet. I settled for letting the jacket’s zipper rest in my good hand, fiddling with it absently as I thought, using the pain to sharpen my mind.

I was broken. I was devastated. I was hopeless.

But Hollis had underestimated me. Because above all that, above the exhaustion and pain and _agony_ and heartache…

…I was furious. I was enraged. I was vengeful.

I had an hour to think. To plan. I knew, that no matter what I did, I couldn’t save myself.

But if I was going to die, I was going to drag Hollis with me. No matter what it took.

…

He came for me an hour later.

He swung himself down, and Irishman 1 crouched at the opening of the hatch, smirking down at me. “Time ta die, lad. Hope you’ve made yer peace.”

Hollis, without even waiting for a preamble, hefted me over his shoulder to ascend the ladder. Being so close to him, being against him, was perhaps one of the worst moments of my captivity—and bloody hell, of course he made a comment about it—but it didn’t last long.

I couldn’t keep my eyes open very long upside down, my head spinning as each step sent a wave of pain through me. My limbs hung limp, but I registered the change in sound as we exited the cabin. Hollis walked a few paces, leaves and dried twigs crunching under his feet, before he shoved me off his shoulder to fall.

I landed on my side, a cry of pain torn from my lips, and coughed weakly, blinking. Hollis shoved a boot at my side, my body rolling onto my back. I blinked hazily at the sky.

Hollis came to stand over me, one foot on each side of my prone body, and leaned down. “My exfil is almost here, soldier boy. Your friends aren’t coming for you.” He said something to one of the Irishmen, and the one from the storefront who’d posed as the store clerk took his automatic weapon, giving him a handgun, instead. Out of the corners of my eye, I saw the Irishmen shout that they were going to secure the perimeter before exfil arrived, as a precaution.

“You’ve been fun,” he said with a smirk. “But time’s up. I’m going to leave your body right out here in the open, so when your rescue party arrives, it’s going to be the first thing they see. You’ll forever be a sign of failure stained in their memory.”

He checked the clip, all of his movements in full view as I could only stare up at him, my breath coming in shallow gasps. My body was utterly fatigued. I was dehydrated, and hungry, and cold, and hot, and in agony. And angry.

“Do you have any last words?” He asked, pressing the cold metal of the handgun against my forehead. I stared up at him, opening my mouth to speak. I thought quickly…his face was about a foot away from mine; he was bending low over me, making this personal.

I smiled, a laugh bubbling in my fatigued chest. Hollis’ smirk faded, and his eyes narrowed. “What the hell’s so funny?” As he spoke, the gun wavered as he raised his arms, preparing to rise.

But before he could even finish the statement or rise out of range, in a final act of fury, in a desperate attempt to get a small sliver of justice for Sabina while I still had the ability, I acted. I used the little strength I had left, relying heavily on adrenaline and the range in my blood, and I shoved the zipper I’d pried from Bear’s jacket into Hollis’ left eye.

The sound was gruesome enough, a deep squelch that would stick with me and haunt my dreams for years, but the sight of it was indelibly burned in my memory. I shoved _hard_ , knowing that if this was the only revenge I got, it had to count, and the zipper was buried all the way into his pupil, the white of his eye red from gushing blood and burst blood vessels.

As soon as it even touched his eye, he screamed bloody murder, jerking back instinctively, but not before I buried the thing all the way. His fist clipped my already-sore face, dazing me, but I’d done what I could. He dropped the gun, grabbing at his eye with both hands as his back arched, stumbling off of me and to the side. He fell beside me, a couple feet away, roaring in pain.

I didn’t think it would kill him. Probably not. But an eye for an eye was as much as I could do, and by God, I’d done it.

“Extradition’s a bitch…and fate’s…a bitch…” I breathed, looking up at him with murder in my eyes as he cupped his bleeding eye, his other eye wide in pain and anger, “but…so is karma, motherfucker.”

Even as he was bleeding from his punctured eye, he seethed. His body was hunched over in agony, and he was having trouble, but I couldn’t take advantage of the distraction. I’d spent my energy on that one last burst of adrenaline, and I was…done. I was done. There was nothing more I could do.

I closed my eyes, fully expecting to be shot as he reached for the gun, teeth grit in pain and rage.

So naturally, when I heard the gunshot, my body convulsed, every muscle tightening in anticipation and panic, sending waves of pain roaring over me. After a few seconds, though, a few breaths, through the ringing of panic in my ears, I heard shouts. More spurts of gunfire.

Hesitantly opening my eyes to the pale dawn, I flicked my gaze around, trying to figure out what was going on. Rolling my head slightly to the side, I saw…Hollis, on the ground, bleeding from his shoulder as well as his eye, now. He was cursing in earnest, scrambling for his gun and shouting for his friends, but the shouts of Irish curses didn’t sound promising.

The next instant, I heard a brief pause in the gunfire, a final spurt or two, and then running footsteps.

The next moment, I saw two blurred forms throw themselves on Hollis, turning him over and cuffing his hands behind his back as he spat curses and insults. Another blurred form threw themselves to their knees beside me, his voice lost through the thick cotton that surrounded my head. Everything was…fuzzy, and unclear, and difficult to understand.

“—ease, come on, _please_ look at me,” a frantic voice said, even as they inserted a needle into my elbow. “Where the _bloody hell_ is that Med-Evac?” They shouted, their voice raw from the volume. “Jaguar, you bastard, I did _not_ run two hours with a bullet wound to get back to you only to have you die, so you’re going to bloody well look at me!”

“Jaguar,” another voice, familiar like the first, said, their face hovering next to the first one, eyebrows pinched in concern. I knew them. I…

“…Bear,” I managed, the word falling from my lips in a shallow exhalation. “Lion, Tiger…”

Bear’s head dropped in momentary relief, and Lion broke into a relieved grin. Behind him, Tiger, who still sat on Hollis, looked over with a sigh of relief, as well. “Scared the bloody shit out of us,” Tiger said quietly, pressing his thumb into Hollis’ shoulder wound when he continued to scream insults.

“Listen, the helicopter’s going to be here any minute now,” Bear said quickly, handing Lion a roll of bandages with a quiet instruction. “They’re going to airlift you to a nearby hospital, and we’re going to get this under control. You did great, mate, you held out until we could get to you, but you just need to fight a little more.”

I blinked, staring at him as his eyes darted in every direction, checking the fluid bag in his hand as it dripped into my veins, taking my blood pressure with a quiet curse, and feeling my pulse with dirty, bloodied fingers. Absently, I noticed a bandage wrapped tight around his shoulder, a couple specks of blood at the very top of his collarbone.

“…you came…back,” I managed, utterly relieved at the knowledge without knowing why. Absently, I felt Lion gently cutting the tattered remains of Bear’s shirt from my wound, looking on in worry.

“Of course I did, you twit,” he said with a grin, looking more like his old self. “I promised I would. We don’t leave anyone behind.”

Taking a moment to let the words sink in, I swallowed, my throat sand dry. I gave a quiet, short laugh, letting my eyes slipped closed. Maybe the SAS…wasn’t so bad after all.

“No sleeping,” Tiger barked, catching my eyes drifting shut. Lethargically, I blinked them back open. In my periphery, I caught familiar forms—the Frenchmen, it seemed—hauling Hollis’ friends through the trees to waiting transport vehicles…I wondered how they’d gotten them all the way out here.

I watched as Hollis was yanked up none-too-gently by Tiger, his eye still bleeding where the zipper was embedded, blood soaking into his orange pants and white shirt as blood dripped from his gunshot wound. He was led away, spitting curses at me and at the others and at everyone he could.

Distantly, I heard a helicopter come through, but the sound didn’t fade. In fact, it got louder and the wind picked up significantly, my hair blowing into my eyes as it descended to hover above us, a spotlight helping Bear and the others work. I heard new voices, saw running figures carrying something between them.

“—lift you onto the stretcher,” someone said, gently shaking my shoulder. I hissed in pain, wheezing another shallow breath, and looked at Lion, whose hand was steady on my chest. “We’re going to follow you to the hospital in one of the cars. You’re going to be alright. Just hang on.”

I blinked even as his form disappeared, replaced by unfamiliar faces shouting Slavic-sounding commands, fixing an oxygen mask over my face and taking the fluids bag from Bear’s hands, pushing him firmly aside. The blurring blades of the helicopter against the purpling sky, the white noise of chaos in the background, and the distant knowledge that I was somewhat safe, at least for now, worked in tandem to pull me forcefully towards sleep, despite the repeated commands to stay awake.

Slowly, as pain consumed me as they lifted me onto the stretcher and secured me there, rushing me below the helicopter so they could raise me via pulley, I watched the sun rise over the treetops, the barest hint of red muddying the purple horizon.

As they began to raise me slowly, the cords helping the stretcher ascend to the sky, I got a glimpse of the sun rising over the forest. It was magnificent, the sky painted in golden shades of red and blue. I would have loved to share it with Sabina. And Jack, and Ian. In another life, my Mum, and Dad.

Watching the sun, the air quiet save the helicopter for the first time in what seemed like months, I let myself sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	13. Chapter 13

Voices drifted to me through thick fog, muffling some of the words. I was warm, but not uncomfortably so, and things felt…tight? Like my body wasn’t my own. Like someone was squeezing me. My left arm felt the tightest. Something was definitely squeezing that.

My throat and mouth felt like a dry boneyard. I tried to swallow, but I couldn’t even muster the energy. I was bloody _tired_. What the hell had I been doing? Had I been on a mission? Shit, was I being interrogated? Or held?

“—brain waves are more active,” an accented voice said near me, a rustle of fabric punctuating the sentence. “He might be waking up.”

Sounded like a doctor. But it didn’t sound like Dr. Grief or Dr. Three. That was enough to settle me for a moment.

“About bloody time,” another voice growled low, but something about it made me think it wasn’t as angry as it sounded. I hoped not. I didn’t think I could deal with anyone yelling at me right now.

“Is he okay?” Yet another voice. Geez, how many people were in this room? They sounded genuinely concerned, though, so at least that was promising.

“He’s fine. Like I said, he’s a miracle. He should have been dead four days ago, and somehow, he’s healing quickly. He—oh, I think he’s coming around.”

As the mysterious voice said the words, I pried my eyelids open. Unfortunately, I couldn’t see much of anything—I could tell I’d been out of it for a long time. Everything was blurred, and colors were bleeding into each other as I flicked my eyes around, too tired to move my head just yet. I stared at a white ceiling, muddled colors in my periphery.

“Jaguar?” A new voice said, and for some reason, I’d been waiting for one more voice, and that was it. It was closer than the rest. “You with us?”

Blinking again, I flicked my eyes in that direction, towards the voice, and squinted at the blurred form beside me.

“Give him a minute,” the only unfamiliar voice cautioned, walking around where I lay to look at something else beside me. “He may be a little disoriented.”

I was. Very. But as the form cleared and my vision bled into focus, I blinked twice more, and recognized Lion leaning over me. He had dark circles under his eyes, but he was smiling. “Took you long enough.”

I blinked again, managing a half-smile. I supposed I’d worried him. That was odd. But not totally unexpected, I supposed.

“He’s alive!” I recognized one of the other voices, now Bear’s, shout from across the room. I wondered where he was; he sounded kind of far away to be in a chair or something. Maybe he was by the window.

“Good morning, Jaguar,” the unfamiliar voice said, and I couldn’t quite stop the flinch at the suddenness. Looking up, I saw a middle-aged man with silver hair standing beside a sophisticated monitor, his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. “I’m Dr. Svoboda. How are you feeling?”

“…good,” I managed, the word rasped in little more than a whisper.

He smirked, looking unconvinced. “I wouldn’t go that far, but you’re doing well. Do you know where you are?”

Furrowing my brows, I shook my head. Was I supposed to?

“They airlifted you to a Czech hospital,” Tiger provided, and I rolled my head towards him. He was sitting in an armchair beside me, but angled away, towards the window. His feet were propped up on the other bed, which, I belatedly realized, held Bear.

Bear looked fine, hyper as ever, so I assumed he’d begun to shift back into his comedic persona. However, he was still pale, with dark bags under his eyes, and there were bandages around his head and shoulder. I remembered the head wound, but not the shoulder wound.

“Bear…?” I asked quietly, looking intently at the bandage.

Bear blinked at me, and said, “Yeah, I’m here. What’s up?”

As much as I could, I nodded towards his shoulder, flicking my eyes to it intently, and then back to his face.

As understanding crossed his eyes, he snorted. “I hate you. You went into septic shock hours before you could get medical help, you were unconscious for three days, and you’ve just woken up, and you’re looking at me like I’m about to keel over. I’m fine, Jag. Bullet clipped me as I was running away, but I’m really just here because I was dehydrated. I won’t even need physical therapy for it.”

I felt some of the tenseness ease from my shoulders. “Good,” I managed.

“You twit. Focus on yourself for a minute,” he replied, pointing at the doctor. “The doc is wondering how you’re alive.”

Confused, I turned my head back to Lion and the doctor. Lion looked like he had finally relaxed, one foot propped on the edge of my bed, his chin resting on his hand as he watched the scene with a smile. He looked tired.

The doctor, however, looked intrigued. “Your friend is right. You’re a medical miracle. Most people who come in in your condition require a coffin, and at the very least, an amputation. You’re by no means back to full health, but notwithstanding any sudden complications, you should make a full recovery. There may be some lasting effects, I’m afraid, but nothing that should dramatically impact your ability to live a full life.”

As he went on, I felt myself begin to relax some, blinking at the ceiling and exhaling in relief. That had been a lot of my fear in that cellar—that they’d have to amputate my arm, or fingers, or that I’d be rescued only to die in the hospital because I couldn’t combat the infection.

“We’ve been keeping you on an antibiotic cocktail and fluids,” Dr. MacFarland continued, flipping to another page in his chart. “But I’d like you to try drinking something now, and eating some light foods later this evening or tomorrow, depending on how you’re feeling. Do you have any questions so far?”

I glanced at my arm, which was secured tightly to my body in an, immobilizing sling. My bicep, where the cut had occurred, was wrapped completely in white bandages. “How’s my arm?”

“Healing well, considering,” the doctor admitted. “Bear did well keeping it clean when he could, which probably prevented the infection from worsening. You’ll need to be in the sling for at least two weeks, and then you can start building the strength in the limb back up. I’d say two months until you’re back to normal for the limb, maybe three months overall. You’re in the British SAS?” I nodded, the prospect of months without being able to fully use my body slightly panicking, but more comforting than what I thought I’d hear. “I’ll talk to your general physician, or whoever you see on base, but you should be cleared for active duty in late January, if everything goes well.”

It was late October now, so…that wasn’t a horrible prospect. Not at all, especially considering I’d been on Death’s damn welcome mat.

“I’ll warn you, it may be hard for you to do things for yourself over the next few weeks,” he cautioned, looking serious. “Things like getting out of bed, bathing, going to the bathroom. You’ll need help for the first couple weeks. Your body is still fighting the infection, and you’re not going to have a lot of energy.”

Well. That was going to suck, considering I didn’t have anyone who fit that bill. I hoped my face didn’t give anything away.

“Besides that…I’m very impressed with your progress. We’ll talk about some lasting side effects later, but right now, would one of you mind grabbing him a water bottle from down the hall?”

In the end, Tiger went, claiming he needed to get some coffee, anyways. He steadily denied Bear’s request to sneak him a cup, considering he needed to be on a water and sports-drink only diet for the next few days.

Dr. Svoboda left with another nod, and then it was just the four of us.

“Have you been here…the whole time?” I asked dubiously as Lion unscrewed the water bottle.

“Obviously,” he answered, scooting his chair up closer to the bed.

“L-Unit rule established long before you were here,” Tiger commented. “Nobody’s alone in the hospital. And each patient can only have one visitor right now, so we kind of dropped the military card and had them put you in the same room so we could all be together. Less of a mess.”

I snorted. “Your soft side is showing.”

He flipped me off.

I huffed a laugh, reaching for the water bottle in Lion’s hand, but he just raised an eyebrow and looked at me. “Can you even hold this, mate?”

“Yes.” Well, I didn’t know, honestly, but my answer was confident enough. Even if my shaking hand wanted to prove me wrong.

He sighed. “Jaguar. We all recognize that you’re a capable, independent kid. But you need some help right now, just like we all do in time. Do you want me to tell you about the time Tiger fractured his leg and Bear and I had to help him in and out of the tub at our apartment? Because it was a bloody traumatic experience, but I’ll give you the highlights, if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Oh, God, please don’t,” Bear groaned, scowling. Tiger, in a contrary and uncharacteristic show of embarrassment, blushed crimson, dragging a hand down his face. “I still have nightmares.”

“I’m gonna kill all of you gits,” Tiger muttered.

I huffed another laugh, the small action tiring me already. “Let me try?”

Lion, in a show of complete lack of faith, put the cap back on before handing me the bottle, probably so I wouldn’t spill it all over the place dropping it. Which I did. Damn thing slipped through my fingers even before Lion let go of it.

Bear laughed from across the room. “For the record, I believed in you.” With trembling fingers, I flipped him off.

Lion helped me drink about half the bottle, holding it and holding my head steady up off the pillow, before cutting me off. My stomach had been empty for a while, and I needed to take it slow. I tried not to feel completely useless, but there wasn’t much I could do; I felt like a bloody invalid, and it was freaking me out. If SCORPIA or MI6 found me like this, what was I going to do?

“You sure you’re feeling okay?” Lion asked, putting a hand on my forehead, not unlike Bear. I kind of hated it when they did that. Reminded too much of Jack, of comfort. “You’re pale.”

I swallowed, shrugging. “Fine. Just…how did everything work out?”

Lion didn’t look convinced, but he leaned back, rubbing his eyes. He was looking really tired, actually. “Hollis was safely dropped in Kiev two days ago, half-blind. Nice, by the way.”

I wanted to be happy, or at least satisfied, that Sabina’s death hadn’t gone completely unpunished, but I couldn’t bring myself to be when I thought of her dead in California. I settled for deflecting emotion altogether, commenting, “Your jacket needs a new zipper, Bear.”

Tiger snorted, and Bear paled for a second, his face displeased. “I’m not saying I’m not happy you got some revenge on that prick, because I am, but it was a _nasty_ sight, mate.”

I nodded in agreement. It was indeed. Not nasty enough, though.

“Anyways,” Lion said, continuing on, “The French, Czech, and German governments all sent their own troops to escort him and his new friends in a big convoy, but I have a feeling that was his master escape plan. It was nothing short of a damn miracle we got back to you as fast as we did. Bear ran the whole way and passed out right after he made the phone call.”

Lion shot him a dark look, which didn’t escape my notice. “And then the bloody idiot insisted on coming on the rescue mission, dehydrated and malnourished and _shot_.”

I turned to look at Bear, who was looking properly chastised. “I _did_ promise Jaguar I was coming back. Besides, mate, you didn’t look good when I left you. I was bloody worried, sue me.”

I recalibrated, realizing he was talking to me. I supposed I hadn’t looked great. “I’m okay now,” I defended. “And if you hadn’t gone, we’d both be dead.”

He nodded, looking away, some of his cheer draining from his posture. “Don’t…make me do that again. That bloody sucked, leaving someone behind.”

I blinked, looking down. “Sorry.”

“Nobody’s at fault, and nobody has any reason to feel guilty,” Lion said, his voice hard. “You did what you needed to to survive, and everyone’s here, which is all I care about.”

“Code for shut up, you ignorant twits,” Tiger muttered, readjusting his feet on Bear’s bed. “If Lion won’t say it, I will.”

Lion smirked. “Thank you, Tiger. Best communications expert for miles.”

Tiger flipped him off. This unit really had a thing for that, apparently.

“So, Jaguar,” Lion said, and the shift in his tone made me nervous. “Feel up to holding a conversation?”

I blinked, not liking the sound of that. “I thought we already were.”

“This one’s a little more serious. Do you want to rest up a little more before then? You look tired.”

I took the out, nodding as my eyelids drooped. “Yeah.”

Lion nodded, smiling. “Get some sleep, then. We’ll try to keep it down.” He patted my ankle and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. I supposed he needed the rest as much as I did.

Feeling exhausted even after just a few minutes of consciousness, I let myself relax. Quiet whispers assured me that I was safe. Not even…not even just content, or okay, but safe. They weren’t leaving, anyways. That was enough to put me at ease.

…

“—not picking up?” I heard Lion’s voice as I came back to awareness, sounding agitated. “How many times have you tried?”

There was no response. I assumed, as I fuzzily became more aware, that he was on the phone. I couldn’t hear Tiger or Bear.

Lion sighed, big and heavy, sounding utterly done. “I’ve tried six or seven times myself. They’re not going to pick up if they haven’t already. Uh-huh. Yes, sir. I’ll tell him. Thank you, sir.”

I heard a beat of silence, and then he sat heavily in the chair beside the bed.

He didn’t seem to be in a good mood. I had half a mind to slip back into sleep to avoid that, but I figured I was only putting off the inevitable. Blinking slowly, I let my eyes adjust to the bright lights, looking over at him. He was scrolling through the phone he’d received for the mission, to communicate with the Sergeant and other teams, looking upset.

“What’s wrong?” I asked quietly, trying not to startle him. He flinched, not expecting my voice, but looked up anyways, rubbing his eyes.

“What’s wrong is you’re a puzzle with a lot of missing pieces,” he said bluntly, dragging a hand through his hair. “And every time I think I find a piece, I find out I’m missing another one.”

I blinked in surprise, not expecting the restrained outburst from him. He was usually calm and collected—I’d expect something like that from Tiger, but not him. “Um…what did I do?”

Lion pinched the bridge of his nose, looking up with a tight expression. “Sorry. I’m not…I’m not mad, really, just frustrated. We’ll talk about it when Tiger and Bear are back.”

I looked over at Bear’s now-empty bed, the chair beside it also vacant of a certain pain in the arse. I supposed I was on some recent pain meds, because the prospect of the conversation was nerve-wracking, but not overly terrifying like it should have been. “Where are they?”

“Bear’s being discharged,” Lion supplied, glancing toward the door. “They should be back any minute. They just went to get Bear some more clothes and sign some forms.”

I nodded. “That’s good,” I said honestly. I was glad Bear was going to be alright. I glanced at Lion, who nodded absently. “Are you alright? You look exhausted.”

Lion blinked heavily, dragging a hand down his face with a wry smile. “That’s uncharacteristic of you.”

I blinked, realizing he was right. “I’m usually more open on pain meds,” I admitted with a scowl, turning away. “Bloody hate them.”

Lion snorted. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just tired. I’ve been a bit worried, you know.”

“Why, though?” I asked before I could stop myself. “I get that—that I’m in your unit, and everything, but you shouldn’t be running yourself down over me. I haven’t known you very long.”

Lion took a second, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before shaking his head, a disbelieving scoff leaving his lips. “You know, I really think I’d smack you if you weren’t already injured,” he said at the end of a long-suffering sigh. “I don’t know how many times you need to hear it before it’s true, but L-Unit is a dysfunctional family. You’re dysfunctional enough by yourself, mate. You fit right in. We’re in your corner. We give a shit whether you live or die. How am I doing? I have a couple other variations.”

I blinked, trying to follow the words. “Um…fine, I suppose. I just…didn’t think things like this…happened this fast.” At least they hadn’t in my experience. And if they did, it was too good to be true.

He shrugged, looking away. “Relationships aren’t all about time, Jaguar. They’re also about how much you’re willing to give, and entrust.” He sent me a pointed look.

“Sorry,” I offered, blinking heavily. I wasn’t exactly tired, since I’d just woken up, but…everything was heavy. Numb. I supposed that was why nothing hurt, though it should have. “Everything’s…complicated.”

Lion looked like he was about to reply, but he was cut off by Tiger and Bear re-entering the room, Bear dressed in plainclothes. “Oh, he’s awake,” Bear said with a grin, patting my shoulder as he sat beside me, Tiger dragging a chair over to do the same. “How are you feeling?”

“Weird,” I said honestly, glancing at the fluids bag. “Tired.”

“They’re got you on the good stuff,” Tiger confirmed, propping his feet on my bed and crossing his arms. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Ok,” I conceded. I glanced back at Lion, waiting for him to continue.

He caught my eye and looked down, rubbing his neck. “I know you’re tired, but there are some things we really need to sort out.”

I was sure no one failed to notice the beeping of the heart monitor speeding up, but I nodded, nonetheless. It was becoming a bit more frightening now. “Okay. Can I sit up?”

Lion quirked a smile. “Of course. You don’t need to ask, Jag.”

Huh. I kind of liked Jag. At least, it was the most dignifying nickname they’d given me so far.

I pushed the button on the remote, tilting the bed up so I’d feel somewhat dignified as they grilled me for answers I probably wouldn’t be willing to give. Bear, without asking, helped me readjust myself, the action tiring me more than I was comfortable with. I nodded in thanks, feeling my neck heat up in embarrassment. Luckily, no one commented.

“Okay,” Lion said, nodding almost to himself as he fished a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. “Ready?”

“There’s a list?” I asked nervously, eyeing the scrawled-on paper in his hands.

“Obviously. Every time we thought of a question, it led to another one. And I forget things easily.”

Shifting, already feeling uncomfortable, I fiddled with the blanket over my legs, the coarse fabric rough against my dry hands.

“Number one, and currently most important—why the hell can no one get in touch with your emergency contact?” Lion asked, looking frustrated. “Between the Sergeant, the secretary, and myself, we’ve called thirty times. It keeps saying the line isn’t connected.”

 _Oh_. Oh, that was…that was going to be hard to explain.

“Um…that’s weird,” I bullshitted, trying to look genuinely confused. I didn’t meet their eyes. There wasn’t a thing weird about it, considering the number I’d put was my cell phone that had been disconnected God knows how long ago.

“Who’s the contact?” Tiger asked, eyes hard. Damn. None of them were messing around.

“Uh…I think I put my friend Tom…” I lied, conjuring up any excuse I could think of. Come on, I’d _literally_ convinced Herod Sayle, a mastermind, that I was called _Alex_ as a nickname for _Felix_. Confidence is key. Why was it so hard to lie to them? “He’s pretty busy. He lives in Italy. He may have forgotten to let me know he changed his number, or some…thing…”

I trailed off, finally resuming eye contact, to find a myriad of emotions across my unitmates’ faces. Bear was looking unconvinced, for one thing, an eyebrow raised in disbelief. Tiger looked…pissed. And Lion…maybe he was the worst, because he just looked disappointed.

And I realized it was so hard to lie to them because…because I didn’t want to.

“What’s it going to take for you to trust us, just a little?” Lion asked, his face dead serious. He looked disappointed, and upset, and frustrated. “I’m bloody worried about you, Jaguar. You took care of Bear, and made sure he got out of an awful situation, with no regard for your own safety. He told us that Hollis said you asked to be taken instead of him.” I glanced at Bear, who was looking away, thoughtful. He looked upset, too. Tiger still looked pissed. Though I assumed that was his default expression.

“That _proves_ to me that you’re a good kid. A good man. And I don’t know your story, and from what I’ve seen, it’s awful, and I get it if you don’t want to tell us everything at once. But I showed you my scars _willingly_ , and that took a lot. I don’t show those to just anyone. Tiger told you he was sorry for being an arse, and that he was willing to accept you. Bear told you about Elliot, and I _know_ that was hard for him. And we fought tooth and nail to get back to you, to make sure you made it out of there alive. Bear did it with a _bullet wound_. Opening up is not supposed to be easy, Jaguar, and we’ve all done it first, and given you your space. But we’ve earned something. _Trust us_.”

As he spoke, I found myself unable to look away from him. His voice was impossibly steady, and his eyes were determined, and open. He was leaning forward in his chair, his posture desperate. Kind of like me.

I glanced at Tiger, who, for once, didn’t look too mad. He still had the same closed off expression, the same tight posture, but he was looking at me too, and his eyes were in agreement. He nodded, and from another person, it might have been almost reassuring.

I glanced next at Bear, who was looking away, fiddling with the bandages on his hands. I hadn’t noticed them before. They were from where he clawed at the dirt. To get himself out. To get me out.

I looked back at Lion, who was still waiting. The heart monitor was beating impossibly fast. They had to notice it—it was the loudest sound in the room. I was terrified, and no matter how well I hid it, it would give me away every time. My hands shook.

I looked down, taking a shaking breath. What would it mean, if I told them? What would that mean about us? That I…that I was finally, finally accepting support? That would be good, wouldn’t it? But then, what about what came after? The inevitability of putting them in danger, the legal issues…they didn’t know what they were signing up for. They didn’t know how dangerous it would be to know everything.

But…but no one said anything about telling them _everything_. Maybe. Maybe a little bit would be okay.

With my good arm, I pinched the bridge of my nose, taking another shaky breath. “It’s…it’s my old cell number. There’s no contact.”

The sentence lay thick in the air, and I was just as surprised as them that I’d made myself say it. I kept going, not letting myself think, or consider, or hypothesize. There was no after. There were no consequences. There were only the words, and all I had to do was say them. I wouldn’t look at them—I could almost convince myself no one was hearing them. No harm done.

“I do…I do have a friend named Tom, and he does live in Italy. But…but we haven’t spoken in almost two years, and I don’t…I honestly don’t know if his number is the same. I’m not sure if I remember it, anyways. And…and that’s really it. There’s no other contact.”

There. I’d said it. I was bloody well and truly alone, and I’d admitted it.

There was a pregnant silence for a moment, and I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t cause the heart monitor to overload and crash, because my pulse was _racing_. That couldn’t have been good for my overtaxed body. I was exhausted. But I could also feel the adrenaline running through my veins, unable to make myself look up.

“Thank you,” Lion said quietly. “For trusting us with that.”

Lion was so _weird_. He sounded more like a counselor than a hardened British SAS soldier. But it was what I needed, and maybe he knew that. I nodded, not looking up.

“Do you want to take a minute?” Bear asked, glancing nervously at the heart monitor. “Before we go on.”

I shook my head, running a hand through my hair. It was greasy. I needed to wash it. I wondered how pathetic I must have looked, small and pale in this stupid hospital bed with a million wires, refusing to look at them as I slowly and painfully chipped away at the careful walls I’d taken months to construct. “Just…get on with it.”

“Let me know if you want to stop,” Lion said carefully, leaning back. He looked different. Maybe he’d assumed I was just being a little shit for the fun of it (because even I would admit that I could be one hell of a little shit). Maybe he hadn’t considered that my entire life was in my duffle bag at the SAS barracks. “What about your parents? The Sergeant said they’re on file.

I flinched, looking past Bear towards the window. It was cloudy outside. Looked like it was going to rain. “I don’t know if…um…”

I took a shivering breath, feeling so, so tired. “Can I…detour?”

Lion nodded, looking even more concerned than when we started. “Sure.”

“I’m…Tiger, do you…do you remember when you asked me why I…came to the SAS? To serve my country or to die?”

Tiger tilted his head, looking a lot more serious than I’d ever seen. He didn’t look angry in the slightest. Just curious, and…maybe worried. Maybe. That was a stretch. “Yeah. I do.”

I nodded, glancing at Bear, then at Lion, gaging their reactions. This was so much harder than I thought it would be. I was never, ever supposed to utter these words. To anyone. “I’m…neither. It’s neither. I…I needed a place to hide, for a couple years. Just until…I could figure things out.”

I kept going before anyone could stop me, desperate to get the words off my shoulders. The _world_ off my shoulders. I wanted someone else to know what I was so terrified of, so I didn’t have to carry it alone. I was breaking apart under all the weight, and I finally had someone willing to take some of it. I hoped. I prayed, I _begged_ every deity in existence that I wasn’t making a mistake.

“There are people after me,” I admitted quietly, fisting the blanket in my good hand. “Really bad people. Really horrible people with a lot of power and influence and resources.” I didn’t have to specify. It was MI6 _and_ SCORPIA. It felt like the whole world was chasing me. “They’re a lot of…why I…you know, look the way I do. The…the scars. And I knew that…that in the SAS, I’d be…doing some good while I was hiding. Maybe helping to save people, and making the world better. But it was also…off the grid, and covert, so really private, and…and I wanted…”

I paused, taking a shuddering breath. I had to force myself not to look at them. I wouldn’t be able to keep going if I did. “I don’t have anybody,” I admitted, shaking my head as my voice cracked despite myself, clearing my throat. I felt heat flood my cheeks and neck, but I was already too far in to turn back. I had to finish at least this much. “I don’t have anybody, and…I’ve seen the SAS work before, and…I wanted…that. To have someone, even if I didn’t want to…you know, become friends with you. A unit. But…” I shrugged, giving them a little half-smile despite myself. “I suppose…I botched that, too.

“But…but I knew that…that when I joined, it would need to be in a way that I wouldn’t be…found. By the people after me. So…a lot of my file is…white lies, or just fake. My real parents are dead. And I know, I know that’s probably really illegal, and I’m really sorry, but I didn’t think…I didn’t think I’d be safe if I joined under my real information. And it wasn’t to…I’m not a spy, or anything, it wasn’t to deceive anybody. I just…I can’t go back there. I can’t let them find me. I really, really can’t.”

The quiet admission hung heavy. I didn’t think they knew what to say—most people wouldn’t, after such a confession. After the final word left me, I felt…I felt lighter, but also so _anxious_. I’d revealed it, the main thing I’d been hiding, that I…that my very presence was a fraud. That I was exactly what Tiger had accused me of being—a kid in over his head. I was so afraid that I’d lose this fragile bond of trust we’d somehow created. That they’d sell me out, and I’d have to leave again. Start over somewhere else. Or, that I’d trusted the wrong people, and in a day I would be in Royal and General in a cell, or interrogation room, or in SCORPIA’s lair, or dead.

The silence lasted a long time, comparatively. Several seconds of utter silence, and in that whole time, I couldn’t look at any of them. I couldn’t make myself look at their reactions. I was too terrified I’d find anger, rejection, resentment. Fear. Distrust.

“I’m…I’m really sorry, Jaguar,” Bear said quietly, on my left. The voice was sudden, and I flinched despite myself, the blanket still fisted in my hand.

Nevertheless, that wasn’t what I’d been expecting. I’d expected accusations and a call to the Sergeant, and an immediate discharge. I’d expected abandonment, and anger. Not…not an _apology_.

“Why?” I asked, finally making myself look at him. I could deal with him. He was the easiest to read. I couldn’t deal with Tiger or Lion just yet, but I could deal with Bear. He looked…nothing like I’d expected. He looked really upset. _Sad_. “You don’t…you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“Yeah, but…we pushed you into talking about it, because we honestly thought…we thought it was something silly, or you were embarrassed.” Bear shook his head, running a hand through his coarse dark hair. “We knew it was probably serious, but we didn’t think it was…it was _this_ serious. This bad. And we pushed you into talking when you clearly weren’t ready, and I’m sorry.”

His eyes were serious, and sincere. He…he was _actually_ sorry. After I’d admitted to lying to him, deceiving him, and the entirety of the SAS, _he_ was apologizing.

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” I argued, leaning back against the bed, exhausted. This was a lot more draining than I’d anticipated. “I lied to you.”

“Yeah,” Tiger said, and I didn’t want to look at him. He must have realized that. “Look at me.” After a second of hesitation, I did, trying to school my features. “You had a bloody good reason. We’re not mad, idiot.” He voice was gruff, as usual, but he didn’t look angry. I took a deep breath, trying to keep the panic at bay. Trying to convince myself that, so far, they hadn’t given me a reason to panic. “Bear’s right. I’m not going to be as wishy-washy as him about it, but he’s right. That was a lot of shit to unload, and we probably didn’t go about it as smoothly as we could have. But you said it anyways, so…good on you.”

I half-smiled at his awkward attempt at an apology / compliment, somewhat at ease by his unflinchingly hard personality. “Thanks.”

He nodded, glancing away, looking a bit uncomfortable.

“Jag,” Lion said quietly. I _really_ didn’t want to look at him. He was someone I’d found myself looking up to this past month—he was always such a steady presence, and I didn’t want to see that disappointed look again. “C’mon. I’m not mad.”

I glanced at him. He looked serious, as well, his posture intent and his gaze focused. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly, looking down. “They’re both right. That was too much, especially in your state. I’m sorry. And…and thank you, for telling us all that. I know that was probably hard.”

I nodded, panic clenching in my gut. “It was. It was…really hard. And it’s really, really important that…that nobody finds out. Any of that.” My tone, despite my best efforts to remain neutral and steady, was tinged with desperation. “I know that’s probably going to be…hard, but…”

“Stop,” Lion said, holding up a hand. He rubbed his eyes again, leaning back. “Don’t do that. Don’t doubt yourself, or us. We asked you to trust us. Granted, we didn’t know it was going to be something this big, but we’re a unit. We have each other’s backs. All of this is safe with us.” He smiled, and for the first time since I woke up, he looked happy. Not too tired, not upset. “I’m proud of you, kid. That took a lot of guts.”

I breathed a laugh, looking down. “I…I didn’t think it would go over this well.”

“We’re not monsters,” Bear said with a smile, bumping my shoulder. “We’re friends. And you can’t even deny it anymore. You admitted it.”

I laughed in full then, the action exhausting, but comforting. “I think that got lost in translation. Friends is a little off.” I’d admitted to being a unit, yeah. Friends was still kind of a lot.

And then the world came to a halt.

“Did you mean brother?” Tiger asked, and I faltered, glancing at him. He had quirked a smile, eyebrow raised in a challenge. “Because like Lion told you. We’re a pretty dysfunctional family. I don’t know if you can handle it.”

“He’s not wrong,” Lion confirmed, grinning. “I’m not sure if you’re ready for all this.”

Oh. They were serious. They really…they were really offering that.

“At least I’m not the baby anymore,” Bear commented. “That bloody sucks. Jaguar, your turn. Thank you for taking the title from me. I don’t want it anymore. You can have it.”

They were…actually offering that.

“But I lied to you,” I argued, not quite sure I deserved that after everything I’d dished out to them. My voice was rising despite myself. “I lied to you, and everyone. You don’t even know my name. How can—I—”

“Then what’s your name?” Lion asked, still smiling calmly. Encouragingly. “I told you before. We’ve whole-heartedly accepted you, as a member of the unit and the family, and there’s nothing you can do about it. And by the way, I’m Danny. Danny Walker.”

“Henry Johnson,” Bear said, flashing a peace sign. He was ridiculous. It was enough to draw a little laugh from me.

“Oh, this is ridiculous,” Tiger griped, but sat up, nonetheless. “I’m Sam Okinawa. Yes, I realize I have a weird name. No, you’re not allowed to make fun of it.”

I snorted, looking at the three of them. And I realized no matter how much I argued…they probably weren’t going to listen to me. They seemed to have gone and decided a lot of things without me, and…I wasn’t totally unhappy with that.

“I haven’t told you everything,” I admitted softly. “Is that…okay?”

“Yes,” Tiger said, sarcasm at a minimum. “You’ve shared plenty today, kid. Your name’s more than enough to keep us satisfied.”

“And you won’t tell anyone?”

“No,” Lion said seriously. “Not even the Sergeant. It’s safe here.”

And I believed him. I believed all of them. I really did. I knew, with my luck, it would come back to bite my in the arse. My presence would catch up to them, just like it had with every other person I’d grown to care for. I knew it was probably a bad, bad idea.

But I was selfish. I…I missed being Alex. Matthew was fine, but I missed being _Alex_. I missed being me. Being…someone I knew.

I was selfish. I figured, once in a while, I could be selfish.

After a long pause, I smiled at the blanket in my hand, finally relaxing my fist. “I’m…I’m Alex,” I said quietly. “Alex Rider.”

It felt like the weight of the world fell from my shoulders, and for the first time in seven months, I could finally breathe.

**A/N: Tears. I am crying tears. I love L-Unit with my entire, entire heart. They’re so good to my boy.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is as much as I've published so far, so from now on I'll update when I can, which will hopefully be often :) Thanks for reading!!! PLEASE feel free to let me know what you think of the story / characters / my writing so far!!
> 
> PS I suck at formatting I apologize


	14. Chapter 14

“This is healing very well, considering everything,” Dr. Svoboda observed, manipulating my arm gently. He held my bicep and forearm in each hand, examining the wound clinically. I didn’t exactly want to look at it, but I didn’t want to seem spineless, either. Tiger was sitting in the armchair beside me, feet propped on my bed (as usual), watching the doctor work. “The infection’s been contained, and you’re looking a little more alert. How do you feel?”

I nodded, glancing at my arm and promptly looking away. The skin was still discolored, but I guessed it was looking a lot better, anyways. I still didn’t want to look at it. “Better. More awake.”

I was glad to have Tiger here, even though he…well, out of all of them, he had the worst bedside manner. Lion and Bear were getting some much-needed rest at a hotel down the block. Tiger had been reading a book when I’d woken, sending me a glance of acknowledgement before continuing to read. Still, his presence was comforting; at least I wasn’t alone.

Dr. Svoboda nodded, looking pleased. “Well, you’ll need to stay a few more days for observation and to make sure everything’s under control, but you’re healing remarkably well. You’ve still got a bit of a fever, which is our main concern, but it’s much lower than when you were brought in. I’m inclined to label it a medical miracle.” He set my arm gently back in the sling and scribbled something on his chart, and I waited, fingers on my good hand tapping anxiously. He’d said he wanted to discuss long-term effects and a couple other medical issues, and I was kind of nervous.

Tiger nudged my leg with his foot, and I glanced at him. “Calm down,” he said with a pointed look at the heart monitor. His eyes were narrowed.

Oh. Yeah, it was beeping kind of fast.

“Not a fan of doctors?” Dr. Svoboda asked with a smile, looking unperturbed. “I wasn’t either as a kid.”

I shifted uncomfortably, trying for a smile as he pulled up the abandoned stool beside the bed and sat. “Just…never liked them much.”

Doctor Three and Doctor Grief pretty much ruined that for me. As well as spending most of my time not on missions or not in school in hospital.

“I’ll try to be quick, then,” he said with a reassuring smile, propping his clipboard against his knees. He glanced at Tiger. “Some of this may be things you want kept private. Would you like Tiger to stay or go?”

Thrown off guard, I glanced at Tiger uncertainly. Tiger, characteristic scowl in place, shrugged. “Up to you, kid. I’ll do whatever.”

Well, this was…actually kind of a hard decision. Normally I’d ask that he leave, but…last night had thrown all my blinders off, and I didn’t know what I was supposed to do now. On some level I kind of regretted sharing as much as I had, especially my name. What had I been thinking?

On the other hand, though, it was really nice to not be…a complete fake. To let Matthew take a break and let myself just _be_ for a while. Maybe that was a step in the right direction. I’d trusted Tiger last night, along with Lion and Bear…I figured I should trust him now, too.

“Stay?” I asked, trying to appear a little more confident than I felt.

With a shadow of a smile, he nodded.

Dr. Svoboda looked down at his chart and continued, “Alright, then. I’ll start by saying, as I said yesterday, that there could be some lasting effects from the sepsis. First of all, your immune system will be compromised, probably for the rest of your life. You’ll need to be very, very careful about keeping yourself healthy in the foreseeable future, and I’m going to prescribe you some immune boosters to take for a while. I’ll transfer the prescription to your GP or your base, whichever you prefer.”

I nodded, figuring as much. I already had a compromised immune system from the bullet wound and subsequent recovery, so now I’d just have to be extra careful, I supposed.

“Okay,” he said, fishing out a pamphlet from under his stack of papers, handing it to me. On the cover, in fancy script, it read, “ _I survived sepsis. What’s next?”_ It was thoughtful of him to find one written in English. “This is a general list of some things you might face in the near future, but I’ll go over the big ones with you. Medically, a lot of people experience dry skin and dehydration, so it’s especially important to stay hydrated, and a lot of people experience weakness or fatigue for several weeks after they’re discharged, which can accompany general aches and pains and breathlessness. You’ll need to take it easy when you’re not in physical therapy.

“That being said, as I said yesterday, you’ll need some help for a few weeks. Do you have someone who can help you with everyday tasks you need done? Getting to and from the bathroom, preparing meals, that kind of thing?”

I blanched, feeling the color drain from my face. Telling the others had been one thing, but I wasn’t sure how much I could trust this doctor I barely knew, no matter how much he’d done for me. “Um—”

“He does,” Tiger interrupted gruffly, rolling his eyes when I glanced at him, surprised. “I swear, Jaguar. You’re the thickest bloke out there.”

I blinked, snorting. I supposed that was deserved. I gave him a half-smile, which he acknowledged with a grunt that sounded halfway positive.

“Well, that’s good,” the doctor commented, moving on. He adjusted his glasses, continuing, “You’re going to need a lot of help. Besides that, sepsis can be a traumatic experience for several people, and especially so in your case. You may experience things like nightmares, flashbacks, insomnia, anxiety, insecurity…things synonymous with post-traumatic stress disorder. I can prescribe you a sleep aid, if you’d like.”

Well, that sounded like a typical Tuesday, for me. Nothing I hadn’t dealt with before. “It’s okay,” I said. I needed to be able to wake up from the nightmares. “But thank you.”

He nodded, his eyes furrowing the slightest bit. “One more thing. Weight loss is common after sepsis, as patients usually don’t have much of an appetite. I did want to talk to you about that. Do you know how much an average male your age and height is supposed to weigh?”

I blinked, surprised. I saw Tiger look up intently, watching with intrigued eyes. “Um…I dunno…65 kilos, maybe? With my muscle mass?” I wasn’t as buff as Lion, but I wasn’t a beanpole, either. I was more on the lean side, I supposed.

“Between 60 and 66 kilos is optimal,” he said, setting the chart down and leaning forward. “These questions are going to be a bit personal. Is that alright?”

I heard the monitor speed up, felt Tiger nudge me again, but I didn’t look at him. “I suppose.”

“Do you normally eat three meals a day? And are they a normal portion size for someone your age and height, as far as you know?”

“Um…” I started, not really knowing how to respond. I wasn’t entirely sure where he was going with this. “I suppose…I have a bad habit of skipping meals sometimes,” I admitted. “But not often.” I also had a bad habit of getting sick after nightmares, which nixed dinner and killed my appetite for breakfast.

“I think it’s a little more often than you think, mate,” Tiger commented. Turning his eyes to the doctor, he said, “I’d say we’re lucky to see him in the mess at all three meals three or four times a week.”

I blinked, honestly surprised that 1) I was actually skipping that much, and 2) he’d noticed.

“That’ll do it,” the doctor said. “You’re underweight, Jaguar. You weighed 54 kilos when you were brought in, and you’ve been on a mostly fluids diet for the past four days. Have you ever been diagnosed with an eating disorder?”

I didn’t…really know how to respond to that. Obviously no, I hadn’t, but…I ate when I was hungry. I just didn’t have much of an appetite after everything that had happened. Some things just seemed more important than food, or I needed the time to collect myself, or…things just kept…happening.

“No,” I said quietly, eyes wide. “I didn’t…I didn’t know. I mean…I guess I don’t eat as much as I need, but I hadn’t…noticed.”

“Okay,” the doctor conceded, leaning back. I couldn’t make myself look at Tiger. I had no idea what his reaction would be, and I didn’t really want to know. “Do you have any pre-existing medical conditions where weight loss is a common side-effect? Including mental disorders like depression, or PTSD?”

I flinched, looking away. I focused on the ceiling, taking a deep breath. “Um…” The Pleasures had been quick to take me to a psychiatrist in the first week of staying with them, who’d been quick to diagnose me with anxiety, depression, PTSD, insomnia brought on by nightmares and the anxiety, acute stress disorder, panic disorder, and phobias (which I didn’t even know was an actual disorder until she diagnosed me).

I’d apparently been one of the most traumatized patients she’d ever worked with, and I’d revealed very little about my history, mostly sticking to the experiences themselves instead of the circumstances (MI6 and SCORPIA, namely)—I’d lasted three sessions before refusing to go back. She constantly asked about further studies, wanting to work with a neurologist she knew to do some studies on my brain functions and thought processes. I felt more like a lab experiment than a patient, so I’d elected against going back, and the Pleasures had let me.

Still, I didn’t know how to reveal all that to Tiger and the doctor. It was one thing to reveal my name, and that I was being chased. It was one thing to rely on them for help and support for what little they knew, and another thing entirely to admit that I was this…broken. This damaged.

“Oi,” Tiger said, his voice shocking me back into reality. I flicked my eyes to him, and I realized that I’d been breathing quickly. Tiger’s eyes were narrowed in concern, and he’d leaned forward, his feet now on the ground instead of my bed. His hand was on my shoulder. How had I missed that? “Take a breath. No one’s making you say anything.”

I did, but it turned into more of a gasp. Shit. I hated it when this happened.

“I’m just going to assume it’s yes,” the doctor said with concerned eyes, marking something on his clipboard. “You don’t have to tell me which specific ones, but I’m guessing anxiety? PTSD?”

Tiger’s hand squeezed my shoulder in reassurance, though his face stayed characteristically unpleasant, and I have a hesitant nod. “Yes, um…both of those.”

Well, it was easier not having to say it, at least. I felt pangs of embarrassment in my chest, face blushing from more than the fever.

“It’s alright,” Dr. Svoboda reassured. “I just wanted to make sure there was nothing wrong with you medically speaking; several patients lose weight when their gallbladder stops working, or if there’s something wrong with your intestines or stomach. I didn’t see any surgical scars, other than those associated with prior wounds, so I needed to double check.” I nodded. Well, that was thoughtful. I felt kind of bad, now. “That being said, are you taking medication for those disorders? You really need to put some weight back on.”

My good hand clenched the sheets on the bed, my heart feeling like it was going to pound out of my chest. I’d revealed so much more than I thought possible last night, and I was _spent._ I couldn’t—I couldn’t let another person know, especially one I didn’t trust much. I couldn’t make myself do that again, I couldn’t—

“Could we talk about it and I’ll give you the information you need?” Tiger asked suddenly, hand squeezing my shoulder again. “There are a couple confidential details I think he’d like kept private.”

I glanced at him, a little pissed that he’d managed to surprise me so much in so little time. I shouldn’t have been surprised, after all, because he seemed very willing to _help_ , but I wasn’t used to it. I didn’t know how I was supposed to respond, or react.

“Well, I suppose that would be alright,” the doctor said, cleaning his glasses and standing. His eyes were concerned and a bit guilty. “I’m sorry if those were uncomfortable, Jaguar. I had to make sure you were alright. For now, I’m going to give you something to calm down, okay?”

“Um…no, that’s okay,” I said quickly. I’d been drugged too many times to be alright with it. “I’m really fine, there’s no need for it.”

He looked unconvinced, glancing at my heart rate and oxygen levels, but something in my tone must have convinced him. “Alright. I’ll come back in half an hour to check on you. If you’re still not calm by then, though, I’ll give you something. Fair?”

I gave him a tight nod, shoulders relaxing as he left. Tiger patted my shoulder and leaned back.

“Thanks,” I said quietly, blinking at the ceiling. “For…you know.”

“And that’s why nobody’s alone in the hospital,” he said, stretching his back before settling back into the armchair, replacing his feet on my bed. “Dr. Svoboda’s a good guy who means well, but doctors are so damn nosy.”

I snorted, smiling. “Got that right.”

“So. What do I need to tell him about the medication?” He asked, arms crossed over his chest. “You okay to tell me that much?”

Taking a deep breath, I nodded, glancing at him. It was easier now that it was just him. He already knew the big stuff…this wouldn’t be as bad. And it was just him. I was sure he’d tell Bear and Lion, but as long as I wouldn’t have to be there, or see their reactions…it was…easier. Doable.

“Yeah, I…yeah. Um…when I…you know, disappeared to come here as, uh, Matthew…I couldn’t renew my prescriptions. And…I came from America, so I couldn’t really…transfer them to another doctor, or anything. I guess just tell him that…I honestly don’t want any,” I said quietly. I hated the bloody drugs; taking them altogether made me feel like a zombie. It dulled my senses and my reflexes, and as much as I hated the flashbacks and nightmares and chest-crushing anxiety, I hated the feeling of helplessness more. “And if he prescribes them, I’m probably not going to take them. But…if he just wants to, I suppose, I used to take a sleep aid for nightmares and insomnia, something for anxiety, and something for depression.”

The words came in a rush of air, and I focused on a point past Tiger, unable to look at him. God, I must have sounded like a disaster. I didn’t even want to know how screwed up he must’ve thought I was.

“Do you remember the names, or dosages?” He asked, voice steady.

I shook my head. “No. I think the one for depression started with an R, but I’m not sure.”

“Was it Rexulti?” He asked, scratching his ear. It may have been my imagination, but he looked uncomfortable.

I blinked, the name ringing a bell. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so. How’d you know?”

Tiger shrugged, shifting in his seat. It was his turn to look away. “That’s what I’m on. Figured I’d give it a guess.”

The confession threw me for a loop, and I couldn’t respond for a few seconds. That was…unexpected. And I never, ever thought I’d hear Tiger admit to something like that. “Oh.”

He shifted again, coughing awkwardly. “Yeah. I—well, Lion and Bear were pestering me, since…you dumped a lot of shit last night, and I haven’t really…you know. Done that, like them.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking completely out of his element. I would have laughed if I didn’t think it would disturb the moment. “Elliot was…my friend in high school, my roommate in uni, then my unitmate. Losing him wasn’t easy.”

“Oh,” I said again, quietly. That made…a lot of sense. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged, waving a hand. “Yeah. Anyways. I’ll go find the doctor. You should consider taking them even though they suck for a while; I’ve adjusted. They’re lowering my dosage every few months.” He stood to go.

After a second, I nodded thoughtfully. “Um…thanks. For…telling me.”

He grunted. “Yeah. Don’t expect a bouquet of flowers or anything, but…yeah. We’ve got your back.”

Without another word, he quickly left, and I let myself breathe a little laugh.

I’d been right. This wasn’t so bad, after all.

…

Once visiting hours were back on, and all three of them could come in, I was a bit nervous the dynamic would be weird, but I needn’t have worried. They were the same as always, talking and laughing about everything they could. Tiger seemed a little more comfortable, which was good, but he was tired. As far as I knew, he’d only dozed last night when he was with me.

Bear and Lion were happy that I was doing better, and Lion looked much more rested. Bear looked more alert, too, his hands having graduated from bandages to band-aids on the worst areas. I was grateful that they all continued to call me Jaguar, but the knowledge that they knew I was Alex was comforting, too.

I was asleep when they first came in, and I assumed Tiger told them what the doctor had said, though I couldn’t be sure. I was grateful I didn’t have to, and grateful they didn’t mention it for a while.

“So,” Lion said, tapping my shoulder with his foot, which was propped by my side. They had a habit of doing that, and it was getting bloody annoying. “This is probably a given, but did you dye your hair to help change your image? Because it’s been killing us.”

I blinked, not prepared for the quick turnaround. Well, that was expected, I supposed. If Hollis noticed, they probably did too. “Yeah. My natural hair is fair. It’s the only thing I could…you know, easily change on a time crunch.”

Lion nodded. “Makes sense. Yeah, it’s fading, mate, you might want to re-dye it soon.”

I touched it, pulling a strand down from my forehead to look at it. Yeah, it was more of a dark brown, now, instead of the black it’d been when I’d officially started the SAS. “That’s what Hollis said. I suppose I’ll pick some up before we go back to camp.”

“Hollis mentioned it?” Tiger asked, eyes dark.

I paused, kicking myself. That was stupid, no need to rile them up anymore. “Um. Yeah, he mentioned it. Sorry, that was stupid. Guess I’m on more drugs than I thought.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Bear said with a smile. “We were just worried after everything, that’s all.”

Hesitantly, I nodded. “Right.”

“Speaking of the antichrist,” Lion said, readjusting his posture. “I went to Kiev for the debrief while you were still unconscious.” Huh. That must’ve been why he was so tired for so long. That was seventeen hours both ways, easy. “They let me question him for a few minutes. I wanted to make sure that…that he hadn’t done anything before we could get to you.”

I swallowed as subtly as I could, looking up and away. Memories surfaced, and I did what I could to push them down, but I couldn’t _focus_ between the pain meds, the exhaustion, the uncertainty—it was usually so easy to choke flashbacks and panic attacks down until I could get alone, or work through it, but now…God, I hated thinking of my time in that basement. I’d tried to keep my mind off of it, but—his stupid cocky grin, his hand around my throat, his lips by my ear whispering Sabina’s death, the sepsis killing me, his threats—

“Breathe, Jaguar, breathe,” Bear’s voice said quickly, his voice surprising me. At his words, I took a shuddering breath, coughing once. I realized I actually _hadn’t_ been breathing. His hand was tight on my shoulder, and he was glancing worriedly at the heart monitor. “There you go, mate, take it easy. It’s alright.”

“This happened before,” Tiger said, sounding concerned. “When the doctor was talking to him.”

“I’m…I’m okay,” I said quickly, hand fisting the sheets as I closed my eyes, focusing on breathing. “I’m okay. It just…took me by surprise. It’s usually easier to…to control everything…”

“You don’t have to explain,” Lion said quickly, looking worried. “I’m sorry. I should’ve warned you—that was stupid of me.”

At that moment, a nurse came in hurriedly, glancing at the monitor. I supposed my heart rate had risen above the acceptable range, and she’d been alerted. “Je vsechno v poradku?” Well, I guessed no one had told her none of us spoke Czech. This would be fun.

After a beat of uneasy silence, only my heavy breaths audible, Tiger spoke. “Sprechen Sie Deutsch?”

The nurse blinked in recognition, responding in German, “Yes, I do. I’m sorry, I didn’t know you didn’t speak Czech.” Oh. That made sense, I supposed, since the Czech Republic bordered Germany.

Tiger smiled amiably, which looked weird on him. “Thank you, it’s okay. He was panicking a minute ago, but I think he’s okay now.”

“I came to give him something to calm down,” she said, and I noticed belatedly the capped syringe in her hand as she moved towards my IV.

“No,” I said quickly, recalibrating as she stopped. I wasn’t fluent in German, but I knew a few words, and I’d translated enough to know she was trying to drug me up, and I wasn’t having it. “Uh, nein. Nein, danke. Ich bin gut.” (Uh, no. No, thank you. I’m good.)

She shook her head with a patient smile and continued towards my IV, uncapping the syringe. In German, she said, “It’s alright, it’s just going to calm you down. You can’t be this worked up in your condition.”

Before I could protest again, she was already depressing the plunger into the IV.

Well, shit.

For a few seconds, the heart monitor went crazy, a manifestation of my panic. Soon enough, though, the beeping slowed down, and I felt my coiled muscles relax on their own accord.

“ _Shit_ ,” I breathed, my filter gone. “Bloody _hate_ hospitals…”

The nurse said something in German to Tiger, but I was too fuzzy to decode the words. Tiger nodded, and she left.

“Son of a bitch,” I said, blinking my eyes rapidly. The world was blurring the slightest bit, hard edges becoming fuzzy and bleeding into each other. “Don’t let her do that again.”

Despite the worry in his eyes, Lion snorted, and Bear patted my shoulder with a guilty smile. “Sorry, mate. What the doctor says is what goes.”

I scoffed, blinking again. God, these _sucked_.

“Anyways,” Lion said, relaxing again. “I know you’re a little loopy, but are you okay to continue?”

I blinked, squinting as I tried to recall what we were talking about. “Oh. About Hollis. What about him?”

Lion shifted, his eyes falling slightly. “He told me about…what he said to you, in the cellar. What he told you. I’m sorry, but I told Bear and Tiger, and…we’re really sorry about your sister, Jaguar. We didn’t know.”

Sister…? Oh. Sabina.

With a heavy breath, I looked at the ceiling, hoping to sink into the sheets and through the floor and to keep sinking. “S’okay. You didn’t know.” Oh, he’d just said that.

He nodded, face pinched in concern. “Still. It feels like I violated your privacy, and I wanted to apologize.”

I could only shrug, wondering what to say. “I mean…it’s fine. I didn’t…I didn’t know it was him until he told me. It’s not like I was dealing with it the whole time.”

That seemed to make him feel a bit better, because he relaxed slightly. “Well, nevertheless, I’m sorry I found out without you being ready.”

I gave him a thumbs-up, shifting uncomfortably. Bloody hell, it felt like I’d been vaulted into the matrix.

“Anyways, two more things, and then we’ll let you sleep,” Lion said, smirking. “Looks like you need it.”

I flipped him off. “They gave me LSD. They must have. That’s what it bloody well feels like.”

Tiger snorted, and Bear laughed, patting my shoulder with a grin. “You’re so small, mate, they probably overestimated the dosage. It’s a bit funny to watch, though.”

“Ugh, screw you,” I said, rubbing my eyes.

“Okay. First thing,” Lion said, trying not to laugh, “Sergeant’s granted us three months leave until you’re mission-ready. With that in mind, you’re coming to our apartment to stay until we go back to Brecon Beacons. Elliot’s old room is empty.”

I blinked, suddenly feeling a lot more sober. “I can’t take his room. That’s—I’m not gonna do that.”

Tiger nudged me with his foot, and I looked at him, squinting a little to get him in focus. “Ell’s not the kind of guy who would want his room preserved forever, or some shit. He’d want it to be used. And we’ve all agreed and you can’t get anywhere by yourself, so there’s really no use in arguing.”

“Yep,” Bear nodded seriously. “We’re kidnapping you.”

“Assholes,” was my immediate response, but I was really grateful for that. For them, and for them being willing to do so much for me. “Fine. Um…thank you.”

“How gracious,” Lion said with a raised eyebrow. “Second thing. Sergeant made an announcement while we were gone; I haven’t told you guys either, so listen up.” Bear and Tiger looked more attentive after that, intrigued. “Due to the spectacular cluster that was the threat assessment for this mission, and pressure from the brass for a few other things, Sergeant’s elected to put two units together for missions from now on. He did it alphabetically, I think.”

“So who are we with?” Bear asked, and I could see him mentally counting the letters in his head.

“A and B, C and D…that would be…” Tiger said, counting silently.

Oh. Son of a bitch.

“I suppose K-Unit.”

“Oh, I’ve heard they’re a pretty good unit,” Bear said, grinning. “Eagle’s a good bloke, too. I met him at the range.”

“Yep. So, they’re coming over one day when we’re back and settled,” Lion said, looking at me. “Sergeant gave them a month of leave so we could get acclimated to each other, so they’ll be around a good bit, once you’re a little stronger. They have an apartment not too far from ours.”

I resisted the urge to laugh, shoving it down, instead turning my eyes to the ceiling. “Bloody brilliant.”

Ignoring their looks of confusion and their questions, I closed my eyes.

I was well and thoroughly _screwed_.

**A/N: HA. I did a thing. The moment we’ve allllllll been waiting for!!!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter!!!! We're moving forward in the plot and I'm really excited! Please remember to leave a Kudos or comment, if you liked it :)


	15. Chapter 15

“Continue?” The nurse asked in accented English, holding my forearm. It was shaking in her grip, mainly because it was my main source of support. I had another nurse on my other side, holding my waist; my legs shook beneath me, and the last time I’d felt this weak and useless, I’d been shot in the chest.

It bothered me that I could be this weak after just a cut on the arm.

“Yes,” I breathed, taking a shaking breath as I continued down the hall, barely able to move my feet between them. I shuffled in the damn slippers they’d given me, glad I’d convinced the guys to go get dinner somewhere other than the hospital cafeteria.

It had taken a lot of logical arguments and some raised voices, immediately warranting a decisive admonishment from the nurse on duty, but they’d finally relented. They hadn’t left together in the week that I’d been here, and they needed some fresh air.

And I wasn’t entirely comfortable with them watching me struggle my way down the hallway, so the privacy was an added bonus.

I’d actually been doing quite well, all things considered. I’d managed to walk somewhat normally, leaning against the wall for support, for almost six or seven minutes. It felt good to walk around, so despite the nurses’ insistence that I stop and rest, I continued on.

And now I knew exactly why they’d asked me to slow down, because I was _spent_.

I’d requested to walk back to my room instead of be pushed in a wheelchair, but the few dozen meters left down the bright hallway seemed like an eternity. Somehow, with the nurses heaving me the last few steps, I made it, collapsing back into the bed with a contented sigh. One of the nurses left immediately, but one stayed to help me get situated.

The nurse said something in German as she reattached my IV and heart monitor with a scowl. I recognized “boy” and “stupid,” so I filled in the blanks.

“Sorry,” I breathed, blushing a little. I’d overextended myself a bit, and she knew it.

She rolled her eyes and patted my shoulder, leaving the room with a belated farewell to finish her rounds.

I fell back against the pillows, closing my eyes. I more than appreciated my unit’s constant presence, but the silence was nice, too. It was nice to just…have a moment alone to process the last few days.

I opened my eyes, blinking heavily at the ceiling. I’d gotten some strength back, but if my adventure in the halls had proved anything, it was that I was nowhere near healed. I was reluctantly glad I’d have them to help. That was going to be…difficult to swallow, but I didn’t have another option.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. One of the nurses had helped me take a bath two days ago (which had been thoroughly embarrassing, but necessary) and I felt a lot better now that I was clean. I’d also been eating more solid food, which was wonderful after a long while of pudding and soup. I was healing, and I knew it. It was just…a slow process.

There had been a noticeable change in the atmosphere around my unit after I’d opened up to them. The knowledge that I still had a lot of secrets was present, and heavy, but not nearly as unbearable as before. Tiger was a lot nicer. Not noticeably, but…there were no more thinly-veiled comments of real contempt, or dirty looks behind the others’ backs. He treated me like more of an equal, and like a friend.

Hearing more about Elliot had helped me understand him, too. At first, I’d thought he was just a standard jackass—I was too wrapped up in my own trauma to recognize that other people had baggage too, and he’d unequivocally corrected me on that. If some punk kid (me) swooped in and tried to take my recently-deceased best friend’s spot in my life, I’d hate them too.

Nevertheless, he was warming up to me, for which I was glad. He was actually funny when he wanted to be, which was a nice change of pace.

Lion was great, as usual. It was kind of frustrating how good a guy he seemed to be—all my shortcomings felt amplified when I considered him. He was constantly keeping an eye on me and my health without being too far in my space, and he’d even gone out of his way to pick up a box of hair dye without my asking. He was a little less guarded, too, since my confessions.

Despite that, I was a bit worried about Bear. He was by far the most open of the bunch, but I had a feeling he’d been holding something back over the past few days. Something important. He’d been with me a lot of the time in the cellar, so perhaps he could help me fill in some blanks—a lot of my time there was spotty at best. I remembered the important bits—Hollis’ visits, the zipper incident, Bear’s escape, in a mismatched order. The rest was blurred and jumbled, mere flashes of images that could have been a dream, for all I knew.

He knew what else had happened, and something about it seemed to be making him uncomfortable. I saw it in the way he sent me concerned glances when he thought I wasn’t looking, and the way he insisted on staying with me most of the time, even when one of the others were there as well.

I sighed, shaking my head in thought. I’d ask him about it. I had no desire to relive my experiences, or to make him relive his, but I wanted to know what was freaking him out so much.

And then there was…the problem of K-Unit.

I resisted the urge to smother myself with my pillow, groaning in frustration as I thought about my impending doom. This was going to be really hard to lie my way out of, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to.

Eagle and Snake, I wasn’t worried about. Snake and I had actually had half of a conversation, and he hadn’t recognized me. To that end, unless Eagle had a weirdly impeccable memory, he wouldn’t recognize me either. Fox had transferred to MI6, but he’d seemed sort of disillusioned after our escapade with Major Yu. I’d just have to hope he hadn’t come back.

Unless Fox had actually come back, Wolf was going to be the main problem. He’d been with me at Point Blanc, but I couldn’t remember if he’d ever been told my actual age. I’d always looked a little older than I actual was, so I had that going for me. He knew about MI6, though. And I doubted he wouldn’t recognize me. It would be unrealistic to think he wouldn’t. Fox would _absolutely_ recognize me, and that was going to be a huge problem.

Shit. I didn’t know how, of _all_ the SAS units at Brecon Beacons…

Dr. Dominik startled me from my thoughts when he walked in, knocking twice. “Good morning, Alex. How you feel today?”

Dr. Dominik was the doctor on duty when Dr. Svoboda was off work, so I’d been seeing a lot of the both of them. I liked Dr. Svoboda a little better, just because I’d seen him first, but Dr. Dominik seemed nice, too. Dr. Svoboda’s English was much better, though. My heart skipped a beat when I realized I was alone with him, but he hadn’t given me any reason to suspect him. I’d keep alert, but I was sure I was alright.

“Good,” I said, adjusting myself against the pillows as he came closer. “Tired.”

“Yes, the nurses told me of your walk,” he said with a patient smile. “Too much?”

I breathed a laugh, watching him inspect the monitors. “A little. It was nice to walk around, though.”

He nodded, scribbling something on the chart. “You are healing well. You can be released…tomorrow? Sound good?”

“Sounds awesome,” I admitted, nodding. Dr. Svoboda had said I was nearing the end of my stay, but tomorrow was better than I’d hoped for. “What time tomorrow?”

Dr. Dominik shrugged, sitting down on the stool beside my bed. “Early afternoon? Dr. Svoboda would like to check you before you leave.” That was nice of him. It made me feel better, too. “First, I have one more important thing to talk to you about. Okay?”

Well, I’d had just about enough of important talks in this damn hospital bed, but I nodded, sitting myself up with my right arm. My left was still confined to the sling. “Okay.”

Dr. Dominik nodded, flipping a couple pages on his chart and scanning something before continuing. Dr. Dominik wasn’t nearly as expressive as Dr. Svoboda, so it was kind of difficult to guess his motives or thoughts. I waited anxiously, wondering what of my personal life we’d failed to dredge up already.

“Your shot wound,” Dr. Dominik said, clarifying by tapping the space above his heart. Ah. My bullet wound. “It hurts?”

Confused, a little wary, I shrugged. “Not right now. Sometimes when I exert myself, or push myself too hard it aches.”

He nodded, rifling through his papers for one of my prescription forms. “No physical therapy for it?”

I looked away, shrugging again. My arm twinged a little, the cut pulling from the action, but it was manageable. “No. I didn’t have time.” I fervently hoped he wouldn’t ask any more questions about the circumstances, absently wishing someone from my team was here to warn him off the subject.

Fortunately, someone powerful seemed to be listening, because loud voices sounded in the hall outside my room at that moment, preceding the bang of the door. “Hope you’re decent,” Bear yelled, not bothering to wait for a reply before beelining to the recliner. I couldn’t remember how many times the three of them had fought over that damn thing in the last few days. “Hey, Doc.”

Dr. Dominik smiled in greeting as Lion and Bear filed in behind him, a takeout bag in Tiger’s hand. “Hello. How are you?”

“Good, now that we’ve had some real food,” Lion said, swatting the back of Bear’s head as he resigned himself to one of the plastic folding chairs in the room. “Jag, we brought you spaghetti? Seemed safe enough.”

I hadn’t had spaghetti in ages—that sounded bloody amazing. “Brilliant, thanks.”

Tiger put the bag on the end of the bed and sat, glancing at Dr. Dominik. “What’re we talking about?”

I shifted, fidgeting, and shrugged. I was going to say something noncommittal and hope that Dr. Dominik would pick up on my social cues, but apparently British social cues didn’t translate very well in the Czech Republic.

“His shot wound,” Dr. Dominik said before I could butt in, and I pinched the bridge of my nose. “No physical therapy.”

“Would you just like my family tree and birth certificate at this point?” I grumbled, pushing my hair back from my face. “Perhaps I can scrounge up my great-grandfather’s pension notice somewhere.”

Despite the bitterness in my words, Dr. Dominik looked unconcerned, flipping through his chart again. “I add it to the plan for your arm. Need therapy for surrounding muscle.”

“Are you serious?” Tiger asked, his eyebrows pinched together. “You’ve never had any physical therapy for a bullet wound that bad?”

“…no?”

“Do you just…like making bad decisions, or something?” Bear asked, eyebrows raised. “That’s downright dangerous, mate. That’s not something you can just skip.”

“I didn’t just…skip it because I wanted to,” I defended, looking away as a blush colored my neck. “I didn’t…nobody told me I needed it. I had to leave the hospital before I was ready for it, and the doctor didn’t mention it before that. After that I was…you know. Busy.”

It was hard to miss the pointed looks from my unit, or the confused glance from Dr. Dominik, but he just sighed. “Alright. How long ago it happened?”

I had to think about it, pausing to retrace my steps. It felt like…like decades ago, with everything that had happened. Since then, I’d lost…Jack, then Sabina, then myself…it felt like it had happened to someone else. “I think…a little over a year ago.” Huh. That was…a lot closer than I thought.

“And you’re sure it’s not causing you any discomfort?” Lion asked dubiously, glancing at the doctor. “Wouldn’t it be painful from exertion without any therapy?”

“It aches sometimes,” I admitted, shrugging again. “But it doesn’t interfere with me doing what I need to. If it gets really bad, I just take some of the prescription painkiller until it goes away.”

The doctor sighed through his nose, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think he was completely done with me and my bull. “Fine. I add to arm regimen. Rest.”

I gave him a thumbs up as he left.

“Eat,” Tiger said, dropping the plastic takeaway container into my lap. “And explain.”

“Explain what?” Damn, this smelled so good. I pried off the lid with clumsy fingers, excited to eat real actual food.

“Well, the bullet wound would be nice,” Lion said, his usual expression of concern out in full force. “I was under the impression that it was fully healed.”

I paused, chewing methodically. This was some good spaghetti. I was kind of reluctant to let the conversation spoil it, but…they were worried, I supposed. I could at least reassure them. “It is for the most part. It didn’t…heal properly, so it’s taken a bit longer, and…I never had time for physical therapy. I was in the hospital for several weeks, but something came up.”

“What just _comes up_ when you’re in the hospital for a bullet to the chest?” Bear asked incredulously, propping his feet up against the side of my bed. “I feel like that kind of takes priority.”

I shrugged, taking another bite. I couldn’t very well tell them it was MI6’s fault, since I’d actually catalyzed the _Ark Angel_ mission myself. “Kind of getting into no man’s land.”

Lion sighed, tousling his hair. “Fine. At least…how’d you get it?”

I paused, stilling for a moment. “How’d I get the bullet wound?”

Lion nodded, Tiger and Bear looking equally invested. I fidgeted, somewhat annoyed. Could they not leave me alone for ten seconds without asking something I didn’t want to answer? Seriously. I felt like I was drowning in all the secrets and the lies.

On the other hand, though…I supposed they deserved to know that much. It wasn’t…incriminating, or anything.

“Sniper,” I said quietly, rubbing the aching scar tissue on instinct. “Waiting for me while I was crossing the street. I was steeping off the sidewalk as he shot, and…the couple centimeters of concrete saved my life. I think…can I stop now?”

I’d felt myself drain of color the second I’d started talking about it, my breathing picking up despite myself. I could deal with the scar, I could deal with the aches, but…the second I thought back to the moment it happened, the utter confusion of falling and seeing my blood roll onto the sidewalk, ghosted figures of my parents leaning over me…I couldn’t do it.

“Of course, yeah,” Lion said quickly, grabbing my shoulder when I didn’t look at him. “Hey. Calm down. I’m sorry. Everything’s fine, Alex.”

I jolted when he called me Alex, blinking myself back into reality. “Yeah, I’m…I’m good.”

“Do you normally get this many panic attacks?” Tiger asked, crossing him arms.

I flinched, about to deny the thought before I remembered this was the third time they’d seen it happen. Shit, I felt like a little kid. It was everything I could do to keep my annoyance tamped down. After all, it wasn’t their fault. “They’re usually…easier to control. It’s just, with, uh…with the drugs, and the exhaustion…it’s harder to keep everything in check.”

Lion, still concerned, patted my shoulder and leaned back. “Okay. Well…let’s stop for now, okay? Eat. We wanted to talk to you about the apartment, anyways.”

“We were thinking Toy Story-themed,” Bear said with a grin, leaning back finally. “Maybe some Buzz Lightyear covers, some matching wallpaper…”

“Jackass,” I mumbled through my spaghetti, but the stupid comment calmed me down some. “I’d peg you more for a Frozen theme, you think so?”

Lion laughed, throwing in his own two cents, and soon we’d devolved into a stupid conversation about nothing. It was exhausting to talk so much, especially after my escapade in the hallway, but…it was nice, too. It had been awhile since I’d just let myself laugh without worrying about anything.

K-Unit was still weighing on me, but…I had some time to figure something out. I could let myself enjoy today.

It would be okay to…not worry every once in a while. To just…let myself be.

It felt pretty good.

…

“Ready to get out of here?” Dr. Svoboda asked with a smirk, unwrapping the blood pressure cuff from my right arm.

“Born ready,” I said with a smile, sitting on the edge of the bed. One of the male nurses had helped me change into some clean cargo pants and a t-shirt, my newly-washed windbreaker on my right arm and draped over my left shoulder. My arm was still in the sling to help it heal up, but they’d let me do some light lifting exercises yesterday evening. That had been humbling.

Bear and Tiger were waiting by the door to my room, my bag slung over Tiger’s shoulder. Lion was signing my discharge papers and working out the billing with the accountants, since it was, after all, on the SAS’ dime. That was a bloody awesome perk, one that I wasn’t sure if MI6 had provided until I got shot.

“I’m sure,” he laughed. “I know we’ve gone over everything, but one more time. No strenuous exercise until you’re cleared with your physician, and keep up with your exercises every day. I know Tiger said you didn’t want them, but I’m filling some prescriptions for your other conditions, and I want you to at least try them.”

I didn’t say anything, so I didn’t technically lie. I’d probably throw them out as soon as we got to the apartment.

“I know you’re prone to nightmares, but the sleep aid should help with that, especially during recovery. Your body _has_ to rest if you want to recover from this, so at the very least, try that, alright?”

Hesitantly, I nodded, not letting myself glance at Tiger and Bear. I supposed they’d hear it eventually. “Alright.”

Dr. Svoboda smiled, patting my knee. “Well, you’re as good as you’ll get, here. I’m impressed. Take care of him, understand?” Bear nodded with a smile, and Tiger gave a grunt that might have been an affirmative. He turned back to me and smiled, shaking my hand. “Been a pleasure, Jaguar.”

I smiled. “Thanks for everything.”

With a nod and a final farewell, Dr. Svoboda left. Damn. I liked him. I would actually miss him.

“Ready?” Bear asked, approaching with a wheelchair. “Got your throne.”

I’d fought tooth and nail about having to ride out in one, but the doctor had unequivocally said that if I didn’t leave in the wheelchair, I wasn’t leaving period, and that had been enough to convince me. Reluctantly, I eased myself off the bed and into the chair, settling down. “Yeah.”

We met up with Lion at the desk, where I signed the final release papers (because I was technically nineteen and had to do that, which felt odd). Lion said that the SAS had rented a van as far as the Vaclav Havel Airport in Prague, and from there we’d fly coach to London. A driver would be waiting at the airport to take us to their apartment, where our belongings would be shipped for leave.

I was excited to get back to the familiarity of England, but I knew that meant a boatload of other challenges, as well. Some more pressing than others.

I insisted on getting into the van myself, which earned a couple dubious looks from the others, but I managed through sheer willpower and pride. I sank back into the seat, winded.

“Woulda been easier if we’d helped,” Lion admonished, taking the passenger seat. Bear slipped into the backseat beside me, and Tiger got into the driver’s seat, thanking the concierge who’d picked up the car.

“Yeah, but…you didn’t,” I argued, getting my breath back under control. “And it was fine.”

“Mm-hm,” he agreed quietly, still looking unconvinced.

I sighed quietly, closing my eyes and leaning my head back. “Let me have this before we get back and you won’t let me do anything.”

Bear patted my shoulder sympathetically. “Sure thing, mate. You hold onto those two elevated feet like it’s a lifeline.”

I flipped him off, but I couldn’t stop the inevitable smile.

…

Bear _really_ didn’t like planes.

Boarding had been somewhat of an adventure, what with my wheelchair. Since I could technically move around fine, I’d tried to argue that with a bit of help, I could walk to my seat and they could fold up the wheelchair and put it in storage, but Lion wasn’t having it. At least it gave me priority boarding.

They ended up wheeling me down the narrow aisle and transferring me to the window seat with a lot of wobbling and cursing before I was finally settled, after which Lion went back to help with the luggage. I tapped the armrest nervously until people started actually boarding the plane, Damian Cray and the crashing jet (and subsequently Sabina) filling my mind.

Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long for the others to board. Bear slipped in beside me, looking a little sweaty, and Tiger and Lion slipped into the seats in front of us. “Doing okay?” Tiger asked, peering around the seat.

I genuinely didn’t know which one of us he was asking, so I glanced at Bear. “Doing great,” he said with a thumbs up. “Just…like I said. Flying tin can of death.”

I snorted, looking away as the flight attendants got up to demonstrate the safety precautions, feeling kind of tired. It was only a two hour flight, so I supposed trying to sleep would be futile. And the last thing I wanted was to have a nightmare on a crowded plane.

“You okay?” I asked quietly as Bear gripped the armrests when the plane started taxiing a few minutes later. “You know you’re more likely to die in a car crash than a plane crash. We drove here, the hard part’s over.”

Bear chuckled, but it sounded forced. “Yeah. Hard part’s over. Lucky us.”

I sighed, noticing that Lion and Tiger were keeping an eye on us even as they talked to each other. I guessed they were worried.

“Oi,” I said, elbowing Bear as much as I could with the sling still on my arm. “Listen.”

Bear turned to look at me, relaxing a little as he did so. Ah. So that was it. Distractions would help him.

“Concentrate,” I said, leaning over a bit so I could see into the aisle. “Tell me five things you can hear.”

Bear blinked, looking a little nervous. “Is this…a game?”

“No, it’s an exercise,” I corrected, feeling him flinch beside me as the plane lurched when we stopped at the head of the runway. “Tell me five things you can hear, and they all have to be different sounds. It’s not hard, it’s bloody loud in here.”

Bear obliged, closing his eyes. His hands were still clenched tightly around the armrests. “Um…I guess…the engine, a baby crying, someone talking…someone’s game console, and…someone’s music.”

“Good,” I said, leaning my head back. This exercise helped me a lot when I needed to calm down quickly, so I hoped it worked with Bear. “Four things you can see. They all have to be different colors.”

Bear opened his eyes, flinching again as the plane started to accelerate, but looking more grounded than before. “Um…the chairs, the baby’s blanket, Lion’s shirt, and a girl’s bracelet.”

“That was too easy,” I said, hoping it would distract him long enough for the plane to get into the air. We were moving pretty quickly, now, so it would be up any minute. “Do it again. Different things.”

By them time we were cruising in the air, somewhat level, we’d worked our way down to the taste, which was one thing.

Bear made a face, looking much calmer than before. “Onions.”

“Nasty, but I’ll let you have it,” I conceded. “And we’re flying, and we’re alive.”

Bear bumped into my shoulder, leaning past me to look out the window. I shifted, a little uncomfortable, but it was manageable. “Damn,” he breathed as we passed through a cloud. “Okay. Fine. This isn’t…so horrible.”

“Taking off is the worst part,” I said, shivering as I thought back to Cray and Air Force One. I looked out the window absently, trying to ground myself a little. “Crash-landing sucks, but if you do it right and you’re lucky, it’s not as deadly as people think it is.”

Bear didn’t respond, and I glanced at him, worried he was panicking again, but he was just staring at me. “What?” I asked, noticing Lion and Tiger had turned around, too.

“Were you in a plane that crash-landed?” Tiger asked, eyebrow raised. “Because that’s what that sounded like.”

I cringed a little, realizing that yes, I…had let that slip. “Oh. Um…yeah. But I’m fine.”

Bear shook his head, folding his hands behind his neck. “I swear. I’m going to need you to catalogue all your near death experiences one day. Nobody just…randomly has so many of them.”

I shrugged, looking away. “No man’s land, Bear.”

Bear sighed. “Fine, fine. Whatever. Thanks for helping me calm down.”

We eased back into silence. I shouldn’t have said anything about the plane, but it had just slipped out when I’d been trying to calm Bear down. I blamed it on the lingering effects of the drugs, hoping that when I was fully detoxed, I’d be a little better about my brain-to-mouth communication filters.

Half an hour later, Tiger was snoring in front of us, and a glance confirmed that Lion had his headphones in, eyes closed. Damn. I missed listening to music. I’d had to ditch my cell phone, and I didn’t want to waste any money on an iPod or something similar when I’d been underground. Bear was awake and fidgety, listening to music, but he looked okay. I figured now was a good opportunity to ask him why he was being weird.

“Bear,” I said, elbowing him again. I should stop doing that; my arm ached a little. “Oi.”

Bear started, glancing at me and popping his earbuds out. “What?”

“Do you have a minute?”

He shrugged, wrapping his headphones around his phone. “Sure. What’s up?”

I shifted, thinking about how I wanted to phrase the question. “Well…could you…tell me what happened, in the cellar? I remember a lot of after you escaped, but…not much from before. And you’ve been giving me weird looks, so…if something happened, I’d like to know. If…you’re okay with talking about it.”

Bear watched me while I spoke, his face closing off a bit more the longer I talked. He turned away a little, not answering immediately, and I wondered if it was too soon.

“Well…what do you remember?” He asked, shifting.

I shrugged noncommittally, unwilling to let the memories come back in full force. I wasn’t ready for that, not…not yet. “Bits and pieces. I slept a lot, I think…you spent most of the time digging, and…I remember Elliot.” I glanced at him, but he didn’t react to that. “Other than that…it’s just kind of a blur.”

Bear nodded, getting a little more comfortable in his seat. “You woke up a couple times. Once when Hollis came to taunt us with water. Do you remember that?”

I glanced up, eyebrows coming together as I thought. “Um…maybe? He asked…what I’d trade?” Phantom fingers ghosted up my tingling spine, but I ignored it, shifting to hide the flinch.

“Yeah,” Bear said, his eyes dark. He looked angry. “Yeah, that was one time. Another time…I think you were hallucinating. You called me Rahim.”

I froze, the familiar name sending panic through my veins. _Shit._ Bloody _hell_. What else had I let slip?

“What else did I say?” I asked, trying to make the question sound natural. My voice was tight. He must have heard it; there was no way he’d miss the change.

Bear shrugged, scratching his ear. “Um…something about McCain? He was trying to poison a lot of people? You thought we were in India, and you…asked why MI6 would have you escort a prisoner.” He glanced at me, and I kept my face carefully blank, sitting on my hand to keep it from shaking. “I supposed you were mixing up agencies, or something, but…is there something else?”

I looked away, out the window, and tried to keep the panic off my face. “Nah. Guess I was just confused.” I’d sooner give them my life story before my uncle died than tell them anything about MI6. There wouldn’t be any coming back from that, whether they believed me or not.

Bear looked at me a second longer, not looking entirely convinced, but acquiesced, nodding. “Alright. Well…I suppose if I’ve been giving you weird looks, it’s because I was confused about everything you said, and…worried. To be honest, mate, I’ve never seen someone deteriorate so much so fast, and…it wasn’t easy to watch.”

“Sorry,” I said needlessly, trying to make the small condolence sound genuine. “I’m really okay now. Besides, you’re probably the only reason I made it out of there.”

“I should be the one saying that,” he said, finally smiling a little. That was better; looked more like the regular Bear. “You and your double-oh-seven secrets.”

I laughed, leaning back towards the window. “Sure. I’m a regular Bond.”

Bear chuckled, and after a second of silence, replaced his headphones. I opted to watch the clouds pass in silence, tracing the miniature highways below and the toy cars and houses, reminding me of a Monopoly board.

I hadn’t thought I’d sleep, but the quiet chatter in the background and the rhythmic pulsing of the engine reminded me that I was still recovering, and sleep, right now, was a needed friend. I figured I wouldn’t sleep long enough for a nightmare, anyways—we only had a little over an hour until we landed. It would be okay to risk it.

Cautiously, I let my eyes close, settling my head against the window. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but it would do.

After a couple minutes of shifting, trying to get comfortable in the pressurized cabin, I finally fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my excuse for taking so long is that I um discovered CRIMINAL MINDS which I’d never seen before and um yeah I’m obsessed. I binge watched over seven seasons in two weeks.  
> Anyways, hope you liked this chapter! Sorry I didn’t get to the apartment, but I thought this was a good place to cut it.  
> As always, thank you SO much for reading and commenting!


	16. Chapter 16

“Here she is,” Bear said, swinging the door open and kicking one of the bags in with his foot, his shoulders laden with additional luggage. “Home sweet home.”

I peered into the flat, entering the dim foyer carefully. I steadied myself on the wall, feeling tired, but still alright to move around. The foyer fed immediately into a living room, holding two armchairs and a burgundy couch ( **A/N:** **settee? I’m sorry I’m very American)** , as well as a tellie and a glass center table with a wilting plant.

To the left was a compact kitchen, a stove and dishwasher nestled closely together. The counter space was half-occupied by a toaster oven and a blender, and there was a closed pantry on the right, by the main hallway.

Back in the hallway were several doors, which I assumed were the bedrooms and bathrooms. I was impressed by the compact flat’s ability to appear spacious despite the constraints.

I’d stayed in a lot of halfway houses and homeless shelters in America after I left the Pleasures, until I could secure a plane ticket and an invitation to SAS Selection. There was little privacy, a constant fear of being stolen from, and more stress than I was comfortable with handling. I dearly missed my home in Chelsea, and the knowledge that it wasn’t more than an hour was kind of insulting, but…the homey touches evident throughout this little flat made me, once again, overwhelmingly grateful that I was being welcomed.

“It’s nice,” I admitted with a smile, catching sight of a picture on one of the end tables. It was Lion, Bear, and Tiger, and who I assumed was Elliot. Elliot was Asian like Tiger, with fair skin and dark hair, laughing. They were at a festival of some kind. It reminded me of the St. Patrick’s Day picture of me and the Pleasures. “Homey.”

I shuffled slowly out of the doorway and into the living room, Tiger and Lion following behind, laden with the luggage that had been dropped off at the front desk of the building from Brecon Beacons. “Are you sure I can’t do anything…?”

“You can barely carry yourself,” Bear said decisively, pointing at the couch. “Sit down.”

I rolled my eyes, lowering myself gingerly onto the couch. My arm, still in the sling, ached a little, but I could tell it was feeling a lot better.

Lion dropped a plastic bag full of pill bottles beside me, handing me a glass filled with tap water. “May want to sort through those and figure out when you take what. He gave you a pharmacy.”

“Thanks.” I opened the bag (which was an adventure with my restrained arm, but I managed) and dumped the bottles onto the couch beside me, reading the labels.

Rexulti for depression. Xanax for anxiety. Ambien for sleeping. Amoxicillin for antibiotics. Clotrimazole antifungal cream for the cut itself.

I heaved a sigh. Obviously Dr. Svoboda had ignored my request not to fill most of these, and knowing the others, they’d want me to take them.

I was supposed to take the Rexulti and Xanax with dinner every night, and the Ambien half an hour before I went to bed. The antibiotics would be twice a day, morning and night, for the next ten days, and the cream was to go on every morning for as long as I needed it.

I glanced behind me towards the chaos, where Lion and Bear were ransacking the kitchen for surviving food and Tiger was dragging his luggage to his room. Maybe I could flush the first three prescriptions without them noticing.

I yawned, feeling jetlagged, and glanced out the window at the rising morning. Between the driving, the flight, and the driving again, we’d spent all night traveling, and I could feel myself fading.

“Want to go lay down?” Tiger asked behind me, and I jumped at his sudden appearance, glancing up at him. “You look tired.”

I shrugged, gathering the bottles and trying to shove them back in the bag. “I think so. Are—”

I paused, clearing my throat. Tiger looked at me, raising an eyebrow in question. “Are you sure you want me to stay in Elliot’s room? Because I really don’t mind staying on the couch…”

Tiger paused after I spoke, taking a deep breath. He glanced into the kitchen, where Lion and Bear were still arguing about how long eggs stay fresh for (which was _not_ something I wanted to find out), and sat down.

“Look. I…” Tiger rubbed the back of his neck, shrugging. “I’m not going to lie to you. I’m not going to be entirely comfortable with it for a while. But that’s not because I don’t want you here, or anything…just that I’m still not…” He looked visibly uncomfortable, his neck reddening the longer he struggled to continue.

“Ell was my best friend, you know? I cleaned out all his stuff, but it still feels like…his. His room. So…you can stay there and I won’t mind. It may just take me a little while to get used to it.”

I hesitated, but nodded, smiling awkwardly. “Thanks.”

In an uncharacteristic display of affection, Tiger took a play out of Lion’s book and tousled my hair in passing. “Sure. Just don’t trash the place, half-pint.”

That was…a lot more sharing than I was used to from Tiger. Maybe he felt more comfortable because he was home, or something.

I decided to take his advice and go lie down, popping one of the antibiotics and downing the glass of lukewarm water, replacing all the prescriptions in the bag. I thought I was technically supposed to eat with it, but I wasn’t very hungry.

Oh, right. They were probably going to start pestering me about food, too.

I sighed, resigning myself to three months of mother-henning.

I stopped by the kitchen entryway, clearing my throat to get Lion’s and Bear’s attention. “Um…which one…” Should I ask which one was mine? Which was Elliot’s? Damn, this was confusing. “Which room should I go to?” There. That was safe.

“Second door on the left,” Bear supplied, making a face as he threw what might have once been an onion into the rubbish can. “Bathroom is just across the hall. Can you make it alright?”

I nodded, raising a hand in farewell. “Yeah, thanks.”

Tiger was in his room as I passed, steadying myself on the wall. From the glimpse I caught, he kept it fairly neat, with a couple personal touches. There were some framed pictures of who I assumed were his family and some friends, some with the unit, and a couple with him and Elliot.

He really liked the color red, as that seemed to be the theme, but it was done tastefully, at least.

Hesitantly, I stopped outside the next door, pushing the ajar door open and peering inside.

It felt…like an invasion of privacy, somewhat, but I knew I had to get over that eventually. The compact room was bare of personal touch, and the bed was made; the comforter and sheets were navy blue. A faux wood dresser was shoved against one wall, an indent in the wall beside it opening to reveal a tiny closet. There was also a nightstand that might have doubled as a small desk, holding a lamp and a digital alarm clock. Old, flattened carpet scuffed against my shoes as I stepped inside.

Feeling a little weak, I went to sit on the bed, kicking my trainers off as I sat down. There was a window on the other wall, letting a little bit of natural light in, though I could tell it hadn’t been cleaned in some time. I glanced around, an alien feeling of normalcy blanketing the room.

It felt…weird to be here. It had been so long since I’d been somewhere with privacy. It reminded me more of my room in my Chelsea home than at the Pleasures’.

“Everything okay?” Lion asked, knocking twice. He came to lean against the door frame, raising an eyebrow in question. My bag was in his hand.

I glanced at him from the bed, shrugging. “Yeah. It’s just been a while since I’ve had my own room,” I admitted.

He glanced at me, and I could tell he was unwilling to ask, but curious to know. I sighed, glancing again at the window. As soon as I was stronger, I’d clean it. I liked natural light. “I stayed in homeless shelters and halfway houses for a while, after I…you know. Just been a while since I’ve had something private.”

He nodded, smiling a little. “Well, I’m glad you’re here, then.”

I couldn’t help but smile, too. He came in and dropped the bag on my bed, glancing around. “Do you have anything in storage anywhere that you need to pick up?”

“No,” I admitted, unzipping my bag to throw the multitude of pills inside. “Just this.”

Before Edward had adopted me, Mrs. Jones had said they’d do an estate sale with the property my from Chelsea house, and the money would be put with my other inheritance that they controlled. I highly doubted I’d ever see any of that money, but I honestly didn’t have the energy to be angry about it anymore.

I supposed they’d done that, though I hadn’t heard anything more on the subject. And I’d left most everything that I couldn’t carry at the Pleasures’, as well as what they’d bought me. It felt too much like stealing, after everything I’d put them through.

I was left with some clothes, a gun, a couple of my favorite books, the pictures I kept with me, and a small wad of bills. I’d have more money now that I was getting income from the SAS—the money was being placed in a dummy account routed through a Swiss account and back to London, courtesy of Smithers—so at least I could start saving for when I turned eighteen.

“By the way,” Lion said, startling me from my thoughts. He looked pensive, fishing for something in his pockets. “We found this in your stuff; sorry, I completely forgot to give it to you at the hospital.”

He handed me a familiar piece of crinkled photo paper, the edges lined up and sealed together with clear tape.

Sabina’s familiar smile stared back at me, and it took longer than I would’ve liked to take it from him. “You fixed it?”

He shrugged, making his way back to the doorway. “Yeah. Wasn’t difficult.”

I didn’t care if it was difficult or not. It was so good to have this back with me. “Thank you. Really.”

He glanced at me, I suppose a little surprised with the sincerity in my voice, and gave me half a smile. “Sure thing, kid. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Just…” I said before he could leave, shifting uncomfortably. Seeing Sabina’s face reminded me of exactly what I was doing, and I was suddenly very uncomfortable with the thought of staying here. With them. “Are you _sure_ it’s okay that I’m here?”

Lion’s smile fell, and he looked disappointed again. “I thought we were getting past this.”

“It’s not that,” I assured quickly. “I just…I told you. People are after me.” I looked away, fidgeting. “I don’t…I don’t want you guys to become collateral damage, is all. I’m just trying to make sure you know that…that if they find me here—”

If MI6 found me here—well, their careers may very well be over, depending on their reaction. If SCORPIA found me here…

I didn’t even want to consider the possibility.

“Quit that,” Lion admonished, looking concerned, but no longer disappointed. “Sorry I doubted you. And yes, we’re sure. We can take care of ourselves, you know. In fact, I think we’ve done protective detailing once or twice, so we know how to keep a look out.”

“But I don’t want you to—” I started, trying to argue that I didn’t want them to disrupt their lifestyle or anything, but he quickly cut me off.

“We’re not doing anything. Seriously. You’re going to be fine here, Jag.” He grabbed the door, throwing me a smile over his shoulder. “Get some sleep. You’re safe.” He closed the door on his way out, and I was left with just the pale morning light filtering through the dirty window.

If I was being honest, I knew that, while all my worries were valid, I was mostly scared of losing someone again. I wasn’t so dense that I didn’t realize I had severe abandonment issues after everything, but I’d thought…well, I’d mostly planned on not getting close to anyone until I was sure I was safe, whenever that was. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about being abandoned. Or that they would be killed because of me.

I was fighting this so hard because I knew, even now, with a very fragile relationship of trust and respect and friendship, losing them would be more than I could take.

I lay back, carefully removing my sling and putting my bag on the ground, grabbing a folded blanket from the foot of the bed and spreading it over myself, not bothering to change.

I’d just have to make sure that never happened. No matter what it took.

…

I supposed I was more tired than I thought, because the sun was beginning to set when I woke again.

I stretched, minding my arm, and yawned heavily, sitting up. Muted chatter came from the living room. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, I supposed it was dinnertime. Something smelled good, anyways.

I felt refreshed, so walking to the front of the flat wasn’t much of a challenge; I kept one hand trailing the wall just in case, but other than a bit of wobbling, I was alright. The other three were in the living room, eating what looked like Indian takeaway.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Bear said through his curry. “How’re you feeling?”

“Good,” I admitted, searching through the cupboards for a glass, filling it with tap water from the sink. My hands were beginning to shake, but I was determined to finish the menial tasks without help. “Better now that I’ve slept.”

“We didn’t know what you wanted,” Lion said, glancing at the spread covering the glass table. “We got a lot, though. You hungry?”

I shrugged, sitting down in the empty armchair with my water. “I could eat,” I said noncommittally. It smelled good, anyways.

They weren’t kidding. I was surprised the restaurant hadn’t cut them off; it seemed like they’d ordered one of everything.

“It smells good,” I voiced, grabbing an empty plate and loading it with a bit of everything, saving a big space for the biryani and a couple momos pieces. Ian had liked Indian food; we’d frequented a little place by our house in Chelsea often enough when he was home. I’d grown to enjoy the heavy spice after some dubious endeavors.

“We always eat from this place our first day back from assignment,” Tiger said. “It’s become something of a tradition.”

I laughed under my breath. That sounded just like them.

“Do you need to take your meds?” Bear asked pointedly. “You need to take some with dinner, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll take them after,” I said, taking a bite of a momos. _Damn_ , that was good. I’d probably only take the antibiotic, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Lion, when’s your sister coming to visit?” Tiger asked in a drastic topic shift, which piqued my interest.

I glanced up, a little pang of surprise giving way to nervousness. I hadn’t considered that I might have to interact with their families, but I guessed it made sense. I couldn’t very well expect them to ban everyone from their flat because I didn’t like strangers.

Lion chewed and swallowed quickly, responding, “Sometime in the next week. She’s bringing Jacob and Jonah, too.”

“How old’s the little terror now?” Bear asked with a grin.

Oh. A kid. I didn’t do well with kids. At least, I hadn’t yet, in my limited experience.

“Turning six in December. Abby says the terrible twos never tapered off,” Lion laughed. He fished out his phone, scrolling through it for a few seconds before handing it to me. “That’s my younger sister Angelica, her husband Jacob, and their son, Jonah.”

I took the phone and glanced at the picture. They looked like a typical young family. Angelica was pretty, and looked a lot like Lion; she had the same light brown hair, but her eyes were brown while Lion’s were a clear blue. She was tucked under the arm of an average man with pale green eyes and dark hair, a grin stretched across his face. In their arms was a little boy with fair hair like his mother and green eyes slightly darker than his father’s.

“Nice,” I said awkwardly, handing him back the phone. I didn’t really know how he wanted me to react.

It didn’t seem to bother him, though. “They’re coming round next week to visit; they help take care of the place when we’re all gone.”

I nodded, giving an awkward half-smile. “Can’t wait to meet them.” Oh, that sounded painfully plastic. “I mean…”

Tiger snorted, and Bear didn’t spare me any embarrassment, laughing in earnest. “Once more with feeling, Jag.”

I blushed, taking a bite of curry to avoid answering.

Lion, again, didn’t seem to mind, laughing at my response. “Don’t worry; my sister’s wonderful, and Jacob’s a good bloke. Jonah can cause a fuss, though.”

I nodded, half-smiling. Angelica looked nice, anyhow.

“Angie will like you,” Lion said, stealing the last momos off Bear’s plate, ignoring his indignant complaint. “She likes strays.”

I stopped chewing long enough to flip him off, but I couldn’t deny the jab.

“Are your parents flying in for Thanksgiving?” **(A/N: Or is it Harvest Festival? Still very American)** Bear asked Tiger, who was nursing a beer. I’d never pegged beer as a good companion for Indian food, but Tiger seemed to be enjoying the eclectic combination.

“I think so,” he said, leaning back in the armchair and propping one of his feet on the edge of the table. “They said they’d fly in and then we’d all drive to _Jii-san_ ’s in Birmingham. _Oka-san_ said she’d bring her mochi recipe again, since you ate so much last time.” **(Oka-san is Japanese for Mom; Jii-san is Japanese for Grandfather).**

If I hadn’t known better, I would have sworn that stars appeared in Bear’s eyes. “I love your mom. I’m taking her.”

Tiger laughed, and I couldn’t help but smile a little. Tiger seemed much less threatening when he laughed. “I think my Dad might have a few things to say about that.”

That was interesting. I recognized Tiger’s use of traditional Japanese honorifics for his mom, but not his dad. He was probably half-Japanese, in that case.

“Is he still on business in Egypt?” Lion asked, scooching his plate carefully into a clear nook on the table before rising for the kitchen, presumably to refill his drink.

“Nah, he’s back in Okita with _Oka-san_ , now. She was angry with him for being away so often, so he put in for some extended vacation time.”

This was beginning to make sense now. No wonder they’d been curious about my family and my background; they seemed really comfortable with sharing everything among themselves. I’d bet they expected me to be comfortable doing the same. I felt kind of bad that I couldn’t pitch in with the conversation, but it was nice to learn more about them.

“We didn’t have Thanksgiving and Christmas off last year,” Bear said to me, startling me from my thoughts. “Our families were a little miffed.”

I gave him a smile, an unsolicited pang of loss thrumming in my chest. “I’m sure.” I hesitated for a second, shifting uncomfortably. I supposed some harmless information wouldn’t be too bad, since we were all talking about our families. Besides, if I gave some, maybe they wouldn’t pester me for more. “I was always angry with my uncle when he missed a holiday, but I was usually over it by the time he got home.”

Lion came in with a soda, sitting down in his spot as I finished speaking. It wasn’t an earth-shattering revelation, or anything, but it made me feel a little better. I hadn’t talked about my uncle since talking to Tom a couple years ago, and…well, I missed him. I missed talking about him.

The other three seemed to gather that it had been an intentional reveal, but thankfully, they didn’t call me on it. “Your uncle raised you?” Bear asked.

“Mm-hm,” I confirmed through a bite of curry, hoping to defer any further questions.

I couldn’t talk about Jack, and I didn’t want it to reach that point.

“What about you?” I asked Bear. “What’re you doing for the holiday?”

“I’m gonna crash Tiger’s celebration for a few days, since his mum is the best cook on the planet,” he grinned, nudging his friend with his bare foot, earning a half-hearted scowl, “but then I’m going to Manchester to visit my dad.”

“Nice,” I said with a smile, actually meaning it this time. “Lion, are you going to go to your sister’s?”

“That’s the plan,” he said, leaning back, his plate finally empty. Mine was dwindling, as well. I ate another momos. “Do you want to come with me?”

The question startled me, and I looked up, my fork comically paused halfway to my mouth. “What?”

“Do you want to come with me, for Thanksgiving,” he repeated, as if it was an obvious question. “My brother-in-law’s family wouldn’t mind. If you’d like to stay here, though, you’re welcome to.”

I paused, wondering just what I’d done to deserve a unit like them. That wasn’t something people offered at random, and…I was honestly touched by the invitation.

I think it showed in my smile, which was genuine, for once. “That’s really nice of you to offer, but…no, thanks. My, um…my parents and uncle are buried just outside London, and I haven’t been able to visit them in a while. I figure by Thanksgiving, I’ll be moving around more, so…I’d like to go there.”

“No problem,” Lion said, patting my shoulder with a smile as he took his plate to the kitchen. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

I smiled down at my food, listening to Bear and Tiger discuss their football teams’ preliminary statistics, the clank of dishes in the kitchen a reassuring cacophony of sound that I hadn’t realized I’d missed.

Maybe the luck of the devil would last just a little bit longer.

…

_“I shot your sister between the eyes,” a rasping voice rumbled, a tinge of glee and a whisper of laughter turning the sound into a macabre declaration._

_I turned quickly, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice in the inky abyss. I looked down, and the blackness continued; what was I even standing on, then, if I was destined to see nothingness in every direction? Where was I?_

_Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone who might have been Sabina. I had just enough time to lay eyes on her, to see her smile for a split second, before her head disappeared in a blaze of red, her body following shortly._

_The laughter came again, rumbling like quiet thunder, and I turned again, faced with emptiness. I held my left bicep, trying to staunch the flow of blood, but it seemed to be the only thing in color in the whole world—a bright red swath in a sea of darkness. My body was pulsing in pain, but I pushed through it. I had to get out._

_“Why don’t you keep me warm tonight?” The voice said again, the familiarity terrifying me as phantom hands ghosted over my skin. I twisted away from them, writhing and trying to run, but they followed me. They seemed to tear at my clothes, my hair—anything to keep me in place._

_“Time to die, soldier boy,” it said, and I whipped around, expecting more nothingness, but I didn’t get it._

_Instead, I got Hollis, staring at me with two empty eye sockets and a bloody grin._

_I threw myself backwards as he reached for me, a scream tearing at my lips, but the world around me remained silent save for the madman’s laughter, his fingers ghosting across my shoulder as I backpedaled._

_I turned and bolted, still clutching my burning arm, but my legs were weak and trembling, and the blackness kept stretching in front of me no matter how fast I moved._

_I tried to yell, but the words were stuck in my throat. I tried yelling for Ian, and Jack. I tried yelling for Sabina. The void remained silent._

_I threw a glance over my shoulder and shuddered to a halt, realizing that Hollis was gone._

_I stopped, panting, my knees trembling beneath me._

_“It’s your fault.”_

_The phantom voice was different, but unmistakable, and I whipped around just in time to see General Sarov raise a pistol to his head and fire, his anguished eyes never leaving mine as his expression was buried in a mist of blood._

_I shut my eyes, feeling the warm liquid hit my face and chest, stumbling back in horror as I tried not to think about it._

_I bumped into something behind me, but it wasn’t phantom hands, anymore—it was solid. I turned again, my brain scrambling to stay lucid in the wash of terror, and looked up._

_“I didn’t want to,” Anthony Sean Howell said, haunted eyes contradicting a wide grin, a charred detonator in his hands. I stumbled back, my breath hitching in my chest as the fear threatened to drive me mad. Ash took low steps towards me, but as quickly as I backed up, the distance between us only lessened._

_“You believe me, don’t you, Alex?” He asked, his thumb hovering over the detonator, his dark eyes wide in agony even as he smiled. “I didn’t want to kill them. They made me.”_

_I choked on the vile words I longed to throw at him, but before I could, his image shifted. His skin darkened, his eyes lightened, and his hair greyed, worn spectacles appearing on his face. He was still holding a detonator, though._

_Abdul-Aziz al-Rahim smiled. “I wanted to.” He nodded to something behind me, and reluctantly, I turned._

_I saw myself, but…I wasn’t myself. After a brief moment of shock, I realized it was Julius, and he was now holding the detonator._

_He grinned a shark’s grin and said, “I_ really _wanted to.”_

_And pressed the button._

_Behind me, there was an explosion. I turned, a scream on my lips, and saw a burning car behind the fire, bright red hair almost blending in with the flames—_

_…_

I shot up in the foreign bed, a yell on my lips before I remembered I wasn’t alone.

Feeling weak, my entire body shaking, I scrambled from the bed and tried to run to the loo, but my knees gave out halfway to my door. Despite the obstacle, I knew that if I didn’t make it to the toilet in the next few seconds, I’d need to pay for the carpet to be cleaned or replaced.

I ended up having to crawl. I didn’t think I’d ever felt more pathetic as I dragged myself quickly to the bathroom, throwing open the door and barely heaving myself in front of the toilet before my stomach revolted.

I heaved for a several seconds, acid and bile burning my throat as I sagged in front of the toilet, my body quivering. My arms barely had enough strength to hold me up.

I all but collapsed against the tub when I was finally finished, my stomach roiling at the memories of the inky abyss and Hollis, Ash and his stupid, pointless vendetta of jealousy, Sarov and his selfish notion of power, Razim and his—his _madness_ —

I lurched back to the toilet, heaving, but there was nothing left to bring up.

Damn. There went my antibiotic from the night before.

I coughed when I was finally done, clumsily flushing the toilet and leaning my head against my arm, my core trembling as I tried to keep myself upright. The shakiness from the nightmare and the fatigue from the lingering sepsis were working in tandem to reduce me to this pathetic, shivering mess on the floor of someone else’s bathroom.

I gave a pitiful whimper as another surge of nausea flipped my stomach, but there was nothing left to bring up. I took a shaking breath, squeezing my eyes shut as I hated myself for the traitor tears that slipped out.

When had I become this? When was the shift complete from a normal English boy who loved football and American music to…to _this_?

I wanted Jack. She was the only one I ever let see… _this_. This mess I was reduced to after reliving one of my many traumas. I wanted her soft hands and her quiet reassurances, her American lullabies and her constant presence.

I wanted Jack.

“Jaguar?” A voice thick with sleep sounded from the door, and I flinched in belated fear as the light flicked on, my eyes still squeezed firmly shut.

“M’fine,” I mumbled quietly, my voice breaking in betrayal as I shivered, huddled on the floor.

“Shit, mate,” he said again, and I realized it was Bear. His voice was sympathetic mix of pity and concern, and I felt even more pathetic at the tone. “You alright?”

“Mm-hm,” I hummed, unwilling to open my eyes or raise my face. If I let go to wipe the tears away before he saw, I’d fall over, so I kept my face resolutely to the floor. “Sorry…go back—” I coughed again, my throat tingling as the acrid burn persisted. “Go back to bed.”

“Jag, vomiting is a sign of sepsis relapse,” Bear said calmly, putting a hand on my back. He sounded much more awake now. I felt him crouch next to me. “I need you to be honest. Is your arm burning, or hurting?”

I shook my head, the action dizzying. Bear grabbed my shoulders to steady me, cursing quietly. “No,” I voiced, knowing he’d need to hear it to believe it. “It’s not…” I took a shaking breath as I tried to readjust myself, but my constricted muscles refused to cooperate, something I’m sure Bear noticed. “Nightmare.”

“Oh,” Bear said quietly.

God, this was pathetic. I was so used to dealing with the aftermath alone, now, and—and knowing that Bear was seeing me at my _lowest_ —

“Do you think you’re done?” He asked softly, his hands still on my back and shoulder, keeping me steady as I shook.

My stomach was still somersaulting, but not as badly as before, and I didn’t have anything left to bring up, anyways. I nodded, taking a shuddering breath and coughing, the burn in my throat finally lessening.

“Okay. I’m going to get you some water, alright? Then we’ll get you back to bed.”

I shook my head, steadying myself as the dizziness persisted. “No. You…I’m okay.” I was very clearly not, but I hoped he wouldn’t press the issue. Unfortunately, this was Bear, and he was a stubborn bloke.

“You’re not,” he said. “And that’s okay.”

He patted my back and left. I heard glasses clinking in the kitchen, the sound of the sink running.

I sniffed, squeezing my eyes shut tighter to try to keep the tears locked in, but somehow, they managed to escape anyways. I didn’t want him to see me like this. Of the three of them, he was my first choice, but…I didn’t want him to see this. I didn’t want anyone to see this.

“Here,” he said, and I flinched violently at his voice, not having heard him come back. I felt him still in surprise. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I heard the quiet clink of the glass as he set it carefully on the tile floor, crouching beside me again. “Can you sit up?”

I shook my head.

“Okay. I’ll help. Sound okay?”

I didn’t respond, which he took as an answer. He took my shoulders and carefully supported my weight as I leaned back against the tub, keeping my head down. As discreetly as I could, I drew my sleeve over my face, wiping away the tears.

Bear must have seen, but he didn’t comment on it. “C’mon. Drink some of this.”

He handed me the water, and after a second of fumbling, I managed to take a few sips, the fetid aftertaste diminishing slightly. The tepid water soothed the burn in my throat, but I had to put the glass down before I dropped it, my hand trembling.

“Thanks,” I said quietly, barely more than a whisper.

He may have nodded; I wasn’t looking. “Do you want to try going back to sleep?”

I shook my head, rubbing one of my eyes. They stung. God, I’d never felt more like a helpless child. “You don’t—you can go. I’m fine.”

Bear sighed. “You’re not. I really don’t mind, Jag.” He paused. “Do you want to talk about it? Would that help?”

“…I don’t know,” I said honestly. I’d never talked to anyone about my nightmares before. I’d told Tom and Sabina small things, harmless things, but I’d never, ever let them know just how bad they were. I’d told my psychiatrist, for the brief spell that I spoke to her, that I had them, and that they were bad, but never how they made me feel, and very little of what was in them.

And I never, _ever_ told Jack about them. The last thing I wanted was to push my terrors onto her, when she did so much for me.

I’d never…spoken about them. And while I wanted to, I’d never had anyone to listen. Now that Bear was offering…

Shifting from a crouch to sit on the tile, Bear quietly closed the bathroom door, leaning back against it. “I’ll listen. You can tell me as much or as little as you want.”

I shifted, wondering what it would accomplish. I didn’t want to burden him with this. I didn’t want him to know how screwed up I was. How broken.

“…do you have nightmares?” I asked quietly, rubbing my other eye. My arm ached, but it was the familiar ache of healing, instead of the persistent pain of injury. “You don’t…you don’t, uh—”

“It’s fine,” Bear said, leaning his head back against the door, blinking thickly. He was tired. I felt bad. “I do.” He glanced at me, his eyes darkening a bit as he glanced away. “I get a lot about Elliot, and I know Tiger does, too. Lion only admitted it once, but he…has a lot about his dad. We all get them. None like that, though.”

Well, I appreciated his honesty, anyways.

I nodded, shifting a little. I felt the shakiness ebbing a bit, but my hands were still quivering, I crossed my arms, shoving them under my armpits to stop the motions. “I, um—the first part—”

I shivered again, wondering what the bloody hell I was thinking, agreeing to this conversation. Alarm bells were clanging in absolute panic, threatening to send my mind spinning into madness if I let myself continue speaking. This was uncharted territory. This was part of myself I was never supposed to allow into the light.

I kept going.

“It was…uh, Hollis,” I admitted quietly. I was suddenly glad it was Bear and not one of the others, because he understood, a little. He knew how much Hollis terrified me, though neither of us had ever said so aloud. He knew a bit more of what I’d been through with him. “Things he said, things he—things he threatened.”

Bear nodded, brow furrowing in sympathy. Bear was easily the most expressive of the bunch, and it was showing, now. “Right.”

I took another breath, feeling a little bit steadier, trying to ignore the alarm bells still screaming within me. “I saw—I never…” I rubbed my eyes again. I’d stopped crying the moment I sat up, but my eyes still burned, my vision blurred. “I never saw her…Sabina’s body. I had to…to leave before the funeral. And—” I shivered again, remembering the phantom feeling of Hollis’ hand around my throat as he described in excruciating detail the death of my last thread to meaningful life.

“And I supposed my mind conjured something up to fill that gap,” I admitted. “And from there it…it was…a lot of different things.”

Bear nodded, giving me a second. “Do you want to keep going?”

I shifted, thinking carefully about the question. Hollis was, ironically, safe territory for us. It was a shared experience of trauma. It was perfectly reasonable for us to talk about it.

From then on, as I liked to say, it was no man’s land.

But I was so tired, and so sick of keeping everything locked down. It was writhing and bursting inside of me, and I _needed_ to let something out.

“It was a couple years ago,” I approximated, looking away. I stared at the pale purple wallpaper, peeling slightly around the plumbing fixtures. I saw Bear watching me intently. Maybe he knew that this was something I needed to do. Or maybe that was me hoping he did.

“I can’t…tell you how I got there,” I prefaced, unwilling to divulge the bulk of my past just yet, “but…it ended with me on a pier with a man who…who was absolutely mad. He was an _absolute_ madman. But he…he’d spared me, several times, because he wanted…he said I looked like his son. He wanted to adopt me instead of kill me.”

I took another slow breath, calming myself. I realized, other than the debrief, this was the first time—the first time I’d told someone about this particular instance in so much detail. I didn’t know why this one haunted me so much, when other experiences had taken so much more from me, but…General Sarov was a constant source of nightmares.

I shifted, smiling sardonically at the memory. “I was keeping something from him. Something he needed to…to hurt people. He said he’d shoot me, and I threw it in the river.” I saw Bear’s eyes narrow in my periphery. “I told him I’d rather die than be his son. And I meant it.

“So, he…well…” I paused, gearing up to say the words. “He looked at me and said, ‘it’s your fault.’ And then he shot himself.”

The slight echo of the words left a debilitating silence in their wake, a palpable tension replacing my thin voice. I didn’t look at Bear. I couldn’t. The alarm bells had since quieted, my mind giving up hope that my heart would stop pouring out my nightmare.

“Sorry,” I said after a few seconds of silence, curling in on myself a bit more, now that I had the strength to do so. “That wasn’t…I didn’t want—”

“Oi,” Bear said, his voice pained in sympathy. I risked a glance at him. “It’s okay. Thanks for telling me.”

He gave me a thin smile, but I could tell the confession had unsettled him. He was fidgety, but his eyes were calm. Worried, maybe, but calm.

I nodded absently, sipping at the lukewarm water, my stomach finally settling. “You can…you can go back to bed. I’m fine now.”

Bear shrugged, unmoving. “It’s okay. I’m awake now.”

My expression must have shown how guilty that made me feel, because he quickly backpedaled. “That’s not what I meant. It’s almost five in the morning anyways, and I was going to get up early, anyways.”

“Oh,” I said quietly, setting down the empty glass. I was exhausted. All I wanted to do was go back to sleep, but I knew that was pointless, now. I wouldn’t be able to sleep after that. I resigned myself to a day of fatigue. At least I probably wouldn’t be expected to do much, anyways.

“Do you want to get back to bed?” Bear asked, stretching against the door and standing. Funny how he asked right as I decided that no, that wasn’t an option.

“No…think I’ll stay on the couch for a while,” I said. “Watch the tellie or something.”

Bear nodded, smiling tiredly. “Okay. I’ll show you how to work the thing. It’s bloody temperamental.”

That earned him a half-smile. He helped me stand, which was a bloody adventure in itself, and supported me to the couch. My legs shook like a newborn faun’s, and I resisted the urge to punch a hole in their beige drywall in frustration. I also resisted the urge to go off on Bear out of nothing more than frustration and self-pity, because he was being awesome right now, and I felt so utterly useless and pitiful.

“Thank you,” I said once I was settled on the couch, the remote in my hand.

Bear tossed me a blanket and smiled, settling into the armchair on the left. “Sure. It’s an old thing. We’ll probably need a new one soon enough.”

“No, uh…” I shifted, spreading the blanket over my legs to avoid looking at him. “For…listening. And staying.”

Bear paused. “I like you better when you’re honest.”

I looked up, startled, and he chuckled. “Sorry, it’s just…you’re so mysterious, you know? And I know you have your reasons, and I’m more than willing to respect that. There are things about us that you don’t know, too, and that’s fine. Just…I’m glad to see you opening up some. I don’t think you’re weak for doing it.”

AT my questioning (and probably offended) look, Bear shrugged, glancing outside at the dark sky, streetlights filtering through the drawn curtains. “You gave me something, so I’ll return the favor.” He paused, taking a deep breath, and I almost told him that he didn’t have to do that. But…well, I wouldn’t’ refuse the gesture, if he was willing to give it.

“My mum left me and my dad when I was nine.” Ah. That was why he hadn’t mentioned his mum earlier. “I internalized all the hurt, and…anger, you know? I never really talked about it, because I didn’t want people to think less of me.” He shrugged, almost to himself. “The truth was that I was scared. I was scared that…if I admitted it, she’d never come back. I was holding onto some little hope that if I didn’t say anything, if I didn’t talk about it, maybe one day she’d come back, and it would all have been a bad dream. Saying it would make it real.

“So I never talked about it, and I never dealt with it. The anger and everything got me into a lot of trouble in middle and high school. I finally made…well, I made a big mistake, and my dad finally made me talk to someone about everything. Bloody hated it at first, and they knew it. But he wouldn’t let me stop going.”

He paused, narrowing his eyes at himself, kind of like I did when I realized I’d said too much. “Anyways. The point is…sometimes we convince ourselves we’re strong for staying quiet, when the bravest thing you can do is speak up.”

I blinked, the words slamming into me with the force of a silent, sudden tsunami.

That was…I’d never thought about it like that. I’d never thought…

Bear seemed to realize that I was thrown by his words, and said quickly, “Yeah, don’t give me credit for that. Much too poetic to have come from me. That was my therapist. But I remember it when I start internalizing things. I even have it saved as a note in my phone, for when I need to see it.”

I nodded absently, still reeling from the revelation his words prompted. That was…that one would take a while to work through.

“Did I break you?” Bear asked jokingly, looking a bit more like himself. “Don’t worry, mate, you don’t have to start telling us everything at once. It’s just something to remember.”

I couldn’t help but a smile a little, his words putting me at ease. “Yeah. I…thanks.”

“Sure thing,” he said, getting comfortable in his armchair. “Okay, well…what are we watching?”

We channel-surfed for a few minutes, settling on an American show about two brothers fighting the supernatural. The show was cleverly named Supernatural. Bear made a joke about it.

The show was good, but I didn’t have much context, so my mind wandered quickly. Before I knew it, my eyes were drooping. With a quick glance, I saw Bear’s doing the same.

Bear and I were both asleep by the time the sun rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bear is the best bro don’t at me
> 
> PSA: I meant that line. “Sometimes we convince ourselves we’re strong for staying quiet, when the bravest thing you can do is speak up.” This is so, so true, and I want you ALL to remember it. If you’re suffering in silence, no one can help you. You take away the option for people who love and want to help you. My friend once said that she felt bad for sharing things with her friends, because she didn’t want to burden them, or bother them with her problems. Her therapist said:
> 
> “And who do you think you are to take that decision away from them?”
> 
> And I was like WHOA mind BLOWN, but it’s true. If you need help, ask for it. Hell, PM me, if you need someone to talk to. I’m here for you, and I care about you. 
> 
> Anyways, ONWARD. Did you guys like getting some more background on L-Unit??? I liked writing it. I love these characters so very much. I’ll love them even more when I get to explore their dynamics with K-Unit! Who’s coming soon! I’m probably going to do a couple short time skips (maybe a week or two at a time or something) to keep the pace rolling, because I don’t want this to end up being, you know, like…eighty chapters or something :’D
> 
> As always, thanks so much for everyone’s wonderful support, and have an awesome day! Hope you enjoyed! Please leave a comment if you did! :)


	17. Chapter 17

The sharp whine of a tea kettle woke me the next morning, but I was too comfortable to immediately move.

“How’d you two end up in the living room, anyway?” I recognized Lion’s voice nearby, and I thought he’d spoken to me. Resignedly, I almost replied from the cocoon I’d somehow created with the blanket, but Bear responded before I could.

“Woke up around four thirty this morning to some noise,” he said, his voice more distant. I heard a clinking mug, and assumed he was making tea. Lion sounded like he was in the kitchen, too. “Jag was in the bathroom. He had a bad nightmare.”

_Ah, shit_ , I thought, still unwilling to break the spell of peace and warmth I was locked in. I decided to eavesdrop for a moment and figure out what Bear revealed.

“Is he alright?” Lion asked, his voice concerned. I could practically picture the furrowed eyebrows, his mouth flat in worry.

“Yeah, he was okay when he fell asleep,” Bear conceded, punctuated by running water and a clink. He must’ve put something in the sink. “It was bad for a few minutes, though. Poor kid’s been through piles of shit.”

“Did he talk to you about it?” Lion’s voice was colored with surprise. “I thought he would’ve clammed up.”

“Me too. But yeah, he talked a bit. First part was about Hollis, then…well. Apparently someone shot himself in front of him after telling him it was his fault.” He paused, and I opened my eyes, staring quietly at the tellie and the living room, bathed in the golden rays of early morning. I hadn’t slept for long, then. “I had a feeling there was more to the dream, but…” He paused. “He’d said enough for the night.”

Bear paused, and I listened intently, clutching the blanket in my good hand. God, what I would give to spend then rest of my life on this nice warm couch, without anything else mattering. “I’ve never seen anyone like that, Lion. I startled him, and…I really think he thought I was going to hurt him, at first.”

Honestly, I almost marched in and clocked Bear for the blunt reveal, but I knew last night that if I was confiding in one of them, it would reach all of them eventually, anyways. I supposed I knew that after the first few times. It was still a little frustrating, though. I couldn’t help the bloody flinching, he didn’t need to advertise it.

“Jesus,” Lion said quietly. “What the hell?”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Bear admitted. “After he’d calmed down some, we watched the tellie for a while, and he fell asleep. Unfortunately, I did, too. I was going to go by the youth center for a while.”

Lion laughed quietly. “You can nap anywhere. You should’ve known.”

Their conversation continued aimlessly, and I took the moment to stretch, disentangling myself from the blanket and sitting up. I blinked blearily, sleep still weighing heavily on my eyelids, and rolled my left shoulder. The wound pulled, but it felt alright. I probably needed to put it back in the sling, though.

“Look who’s alive,” Lion said from the doorway, and I turned to look at him, still squinting from the remnants of sleep. Lion chuckled. “Or maybe not.”

“Not,” I affirmed, deciding to steadfastly ignore any and all questions about my wellbeing at least until I’d drunk some coffee. Preferably forever, but I reckoned that wouldn’t go over so well. I stood, promptly falling back to the couch when the living room started to spin. “Whoa.”

Lion looked like he couldn’t decide whether to be amused or worried, leaning against the doorframe with a steaming mug in his hand. “You alright?”

“Just a little dizzy,” I admitted, rubbing my forehead. “I’ll be fine after some coffee.”

Bear brushed past Lion and into the living room, eyes narrowing. “You look worse than you did last night.”

“Oh, thank you,” I bit, though I could admit that I probably looked like a ghost at the moment. I felt pretty bad.

“You’re eating something,” Bear said resolutely, turning back to the kitchen, “then taking your medicine. Then going back to sleep.”

If I was being honest, I didn’t have much to do besides that, but being denied the option was enough to piss me off. “I’ll watch the tellie for a while. I’m really fine, I just have trouble getting going in the morning.”

Lion raised an eyebrow. “You stood up and almost face-planted into our table. I’d say that’s a little more than just some trouble.”

I didn’t comment, sending him a look before trying again, steadying myself on the edge of the couch as I got my bearings. “See? All fine.” The world was only spinning a little bit, anyways.

I wobbled into the kitchen, earning a disapproving glare from Bear. “I hope you’re here to tell me you’re going to spend the rest of the day horizontal.”

“Bear, I really appreciate what you did last night and what you’re trying to do now, but please don’t mother me,” I said firmly, steadying myself on the counter and grabbing a coffee mug from the shelf, my hand shaking the slightest bit.

I was very appreciative of Bear and his willingness to help me and worry for me, but I was also struck with just how bad last night’s nightmare had been, and by the fact that my walls had been reduced to _dangerously_ low blockades. I’d spoken much more than I should have, and I was paying for it now.

I remembered Bear’s words, about being brave for speaking up, but I was nowhere near ready to face them just yet.

Bear gave me an unreadable expression before shimmying the frying pan in his hand, runny eggs congealing from the heat. “I’m not mothering you. You’re pushing yourself well past your body’s limits, and as the medic, and your friend, I’m trying to make you understand that you’re not proving anything but your absolute stupidity and lack of self-preservation by stumbling around like a drunk on a bender and calling it independence.”

I blinked, trying to translate the sentence, squinting at Bear as my lagging brain tried to keep up. I heard Lion laugh from the living room. “Bear, he’s not used to you in post-disaster medic mode. You have to ease him in.”

“Shut up, prat,” Bear shot back. Lion snorted.

Bear glanced at me, then sighed reluctantly, plating the eggs as the toaster dinged in alarm. “Just…I know you’re obviously not used to letting people help you, but you can’t be so independent that you don’t let yourself heal. Alright?”

I blinked again, feeling my face heat. I looked down, sliding the coffee cup in his direction. “Two sugars, no cream.”

Bear kind of looked like he wanted to be mad, but he smiled a little. “I didn’t say you could turn me into your bloody butler, kid.”

I couldn’t help but smile a little. “All or nothing, Bear.”

Bear laughed, then, and something in my chest eased. I really didn’t like it when Bear was upset. It felt wrong. “Sure, sure. Taking advantage of my generous nature. Get out of my kitchen.”

I laughed quietly. “Thanks.”

“You’re very welcome, Jigsaw.”

I stilled, glancing back at him with what I hoped was an incredulous expression. “The hell was that?”

“Your new nickname,” Bear said, and I could hear Lion continuing to laugh in the living room. “Jigsaw. Because you’re a puzzle. C’mon, I thought it was funny!”

I didn’t even dignify that with a response, sitting back on the couch. Lion’s eyes danced with mirth in my periphery.

“Not a word,” I warned, fumbling for the remote.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

I managed to fenagle the tellie to the correct settings, putting on the morning news. Bear brought me coffee and eggs and toast, and I felt like an absolutely useless excuse for a human being, but I couldn’t say anything after his monologue earlier. “Thanks.”

“Sure,” Bear said, plopping down beside me with his own plate. “Just don’t tell Tiger. That was the last of his coffee.”

He said so mid-sip, and I almost inhaled it on accident. “Oh. I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have asked for it if I’d known.”

Lion chuckled. “Nah, it’s funny. If you’re going to stick around, dealing with Tiger on a day he doesn’t get coffee is practically a rite of passage.”

“Speak of the devil,” Bear whispered, tipping his head towards the back hallway.

As if summoned by the conversation, a bedraggled Tiger with an expression that could incinerate a planet stumbled out into the living room, not even glancing in our direction before continuing to the kitchen.

“Shit,” I breathed, chugging the coffee to hide the evidence. Bear and Lion were trying very hard not to laugh, remaining quiet as I threw back the hot drink, hoping to finish before Tiger inevitably discovered the theft.

There was a few seconds of shuffling, some opening and closing of cabinets, and a couple mumbled expletives when I finally set the empty mug down, breathing heavily. Damn, that was hot.

Then, there were a couple seconds of silence.

Then…

“Which one of you sons of bitches thought it was a good idea to take my _bloody_ coffee?”

…

A week later, I was settled more comfortably into the L-Unit flat. I’d had a couple more nightmares, but I’d been doubly sure to remain exceptionally quiet during and after, so I didn’t have to repeat last week’s experience.

Living with the guys outside of Brecon Beacons was a different experience, one I found I actually enjoyed. Tiger, surprisingly, was a bit more open with me now that he was at home, for which I was grateful. Bear continued to be a good friend and overbearing maniac, but I…enjoyed his company.

Lion…well, I’d actually decided that I didn’t know Lion all that well, compared to the other two. He’d been awesome, very supportive and patient, and _kind_ , but he didn’t talk about himself much, or give much away. I wondered if it was on purpose, or a byproduct of his childhood.

I got the chance to get to know him a bit more one day, and I was…actually kind of eager to do so. Bear had confided in me, and even Tiger had let down his walls a bit…but that first time, when Lion told me about his father and his childhood, it was like he was reading from a script. I knew it had been hard to do, but…he’d seemed…blasé, almost, about the reveal. I was letting so many secrets come to light, and knowing that I knew so little about him, and what made him tick, was disconcerting.

“Ready?” He asked, knocking twice on my open door.

“Yeah,” I said, shoving my feet into my trainers and adjusting my sling. It was my first day of physical therapy and my first appointment with the shrink I’d been assigned. I’d clammed up as soon as Lion told me, but I felt a little better after he explained that it was standard practice for anyone who’d been captive by the enemy on an assignment, for however long. Bear assured me that he was going to have to see one, too.

Since I couldn’t drive (which I chalked up to my extended period of nonexistence instead of the fact that I, um, wasn’t of age yet) Lion offered to take me. He and Tiger both owned cars. I’d gathered that Bear usually took the subway whenever he needed to get around. I felt kind of bad that Lion was wasting his whole day chauffeuring me around, but he’d assured me he had some errands in the city to run, anyways.

“Well, we’ll be late if we dally any longer,” Lion said, twirling the keys in his hand. “You alright for the stairs, or do you want to try the lift?”

“Stairs are fine,” I assured, tugging on a jacket and flinging the left arm over my sling. God, I hoped to get rid of this bloody thing soon. It was so annoying. “I feel good today.”

“Don’t let the shrinks scare you,” Tiger said from the living room, flicking through channels. He was a little too happy about having the flat to himself for the day; Bear was volunteering at a youth center or something outside London. Apparently he did that a lot while he was home. “They’re vultures, but they’re easy enough to deal with.”

“Thanks for the warning,” I said. I was somewhat dreading the experience, but I also knew that I’d probably be able to talk circles in them, unless they were _very_ good. Which, according to Tiger, wouldn’t be the case.

We were going to the London branch, so our drive was a little under an hour. We spent most of it in silence. After a week cooped up in the flat, watching the scenery pass was nice.

“How’re you settling in?” Lion asked as we approached the outskirts of London, cars packed nice and tight on the inlets.

“Good,” I admitting, readjusting my jacket, which had begun to slip off my slinged shoulder. “I still feel bad about using Elliot’s room, but…I like it there.”

I saw Lion quirk a smile out of the corner of my eye. “I’m glad.”

Silence resumed, but it wasn’t thick or heavy. It was nice, companionable silence. It reminded me of the days of silence I’d spend with Ian, sometimes. He’d be working, and I’d be reading, or watching the tellie, but…we were together. We didn’t have to talk, or anything.

I closed my eyes. What I wouldn’t give to have another day with him.

“You alright?”

“Hm?” I said, glancing at him. “Ah, yeah. Just thinking.”

“What about?”

I shrugged, continuing to look out the window. Couldn’t hurt, I supposed. “My uncle.”

Lion nodded. “Yeah? You said he raised you, right?”

“Yeah,” I conceded, knowing full well that Lion was fishing for information. Well, it startled me to admit it, but...I was almost nonchalant, now, about revealing little pieces of information. After Bear watching me utterly break down, and Lion and Tiger seeing the aftermath…it felt like anything I told them couldn’t possibly be as bad as knowing they’d seen that.

“Are you close?”

I smiled a little, involuntarily, thousands of snapshot memories filtering through my mind. Mountain climbing, scuba diving, camping, holidays, and those days of companionable silence. “Yeah. We were, anyway.”

Lion didn’t say anything, but he nodded.

The facility was far enough away from the Bank that I wasn’t too worried about anyone recognizing me, but it was still a military facility, so I’d hide my face as much as possible. I’d finally re-dyed my hair, too, so that would help. Lion had helped. I felt kind of bad; he’d ruined one of his shirts.

“I’ll be in the lobby when you’re done,” Lion assured, patting my shoulder as I followed the nurse back to the physical therapy wing.

Tiger warned me about the psychiatrists, but he _should’ve_ warned me about the physical therapists. Apparently they’d taken lessons from Dr. Three in their courses.

I blinked as the thought crossed my mind. That was…very dark humor. I’d avoid that in the future.

However, I couldn’t help but think it was true. My therapist Lissa was very nice, but she didn’t mess around. I would’ve thought we’d be starting with some stretching, perhaps some light motions, but she had me lifting weights almost as soon as I took the sling off. It was disconcerting to know how much strength I’d lost in the arm, but at least she was jumping right in. I didn’t know if I’d have the patience for gradual improvement.

Unfortunately, that meant I was getting the speed-treatment, which was so far unpleasant.

“You look like you just ran a marathon,” Lion commented as I stumbled into the lobby, where he was twirling the keys in his hand and perusing the magazines on te coffee table. “And then doubled back and did it again.”

I gave a short, humorless laugh, my arm and upper body aching. “Feels like it. Lissa doesn’t mess around.”

“Oh, you got Lissa? She’s brilliant. I tore a muscle a couple years back and she worked on me. She’s tough, though.”

I scoffed. “You don’t say.”

The shrink was in a different wing of the facility, and I was pleased that, while I was winded once we finally got there, I didn’t have to stop and rest along the way. Lissa said I was doing quite well for someone who’d recently survived sepsis, but that I still needed to watch my exertion. Apparently, physical therapists were psychic, and knew exactly how much one overexerted themselves, and she gave me hell for it.

Bear would get a kick out of that.

The receptionist gave me enough paperwork to kill half a forest, so Lion and I hunkered down in a corner of the waiting room while I scanned through it all. It was mostly just standard stuff, medical history and everything. I supposed I should answer truthfully to at least that, in case they had questions about the medication in my file.

Lion resigned himself to flipping through a copy of _Cosmopolitan_ (he defended that the options were limited) while I worked through the stack of papers, stopping briefly on the fourth page.

_Do you have any pre-existing mental health conditions?_

I snorted, and started checking boxes. Lion glanced over, eyes narrowing as I worked my way down the list. “Damn, kid. Is there any box you aren’t checking?”

I glanced at him, then scanned the list again. “Um…schizophrenia.”

Lion shook his head. I shrugged.

It must have been a slow day, because I went back fairly soon after I turned the paperwork in. I was led to a cramped little office with a sofa and a cluttered desk, papers and files piled in every available space. Behind the desk sat a mousy middle-aged man (bonus points for alliteration), with thick, horn-rimmed glasses and a casual outfit that practically advertised a midlife crisis.

“Ah, Mr. Smith,” the man said, glancing up from his computer as I rapped twice on the door. He stood and crossed around the desk, sinking into an armchair nestled in the corner and gesturing to the couch. “Come in, have a seat. Or would you prefer Matthew?”

“Matthew is fine,” I said, closing the door behind me and settling on the couch. It was deceptively comfortable; it looked like it had been crafted in the stone age. I glanced at the nameplate on his desk. “Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Hash.”

“And you,” he said with a thin smile. I decided I didn’t hate him. He didn’t seem overly imposing, or aggressive. Perhaps I’d make it out of here alive after all. “How are you doing today?”

I shrugged, glancing around the room. There were a couple framed degrees and some pictures on his desk of him and a woman with red hair, and a couple kids. “I’m well. Bit tired. I just came from a physical therapy session.”

“Ah, yes, I’ve heard those can be quite brutal,” he said sympathetically, opening a folder. I recognized my paperwork. “You’re with the SAS, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And it looks like…you’re fairly new. How’re you settling in?”

I took a second to word my answer. “Good. It was…rocky at first, but that’s to be expected, I suppose. We’re getting on well now.”

“Pleased to hear it,” he said with a small smile. The small-talk continued for a few moments, and he asked some more detailed questions about my family history and my own history with mental illness, but I think he gathered that I didn’t much care for the topic. After about twenty minutes of beating around the bush, he finally got to the point.

“So, I understand you were taken captive on your last assignment,” he said, his posture relaxed as he set his files to the side, watching me intently.

“Yes, sir,” I answered, planning to keep my answers brief and impersonal for the most part. I supposed the trick would be making them just genuine enough to earn his approval, but I didn’t want to let out more than I needed to. “For about sixteen hours.”

“I see.” The vague answer set me on edge, and I shifted a bit. “Would you like to elaborate on your experience, or would you like me to ask questions?”

Well. It was nice of him to give the option. “There really isn’t much to tell; I was unconscious for most of the time.” That was actually true. While the worst memories were highlighted in excruciating detail that would take decades to fade, the rest was a formless haze of distant feelings, instead of memories.

“And why was that?”

I shifted again, my arm aching in phantom pain at the memory of the infection. “I was going into septic shock. I’d been cut a couple days before, and the cut had gotten infected.” I gestured to the sling. “It’s what I’m in physical therapy for. I was mostly slipping in and out.”

“Hm,” he said, and I decided I was liking him less and less. I didn’t like the vague one-word answers and the decidedly neutral expression, and his apparent inability to reveal any genuine emotion. It made me feel like he knew something I didn’t, and it was pissing me off.

I blinked.

Holy shit. My poor unit.

Before I could dwell on it, though, he continued, “Well, why don’t you tell me about the men who took you?”

I debated telling him no, but I supposed that wouldn’t go over too well on a psych eval. “It was our package, Frederick Hollis, and three Irishmen who’d come to spring him. I never learned their names.” If I could keep my statements clinical, detached, I could get through this. I took a deep breath to calm my quickening pulse, shifting to hide the movement. “Hollis was a convicted terrorist, murderer, and more, and it showed in his actions. He showed above-average intelligence and was very egotistical, which dictated a lot of his actions. He wasn’t quick to anger, but he seemed to go ballistic once he snapped. The Irishmen seemed more like grunts than anything, but they were resourceful, and dangerous.”

Dr. Hash raised an eyebrow. “What?” I asked, unable to hide the defensive bite in my tone.

“You sound like you’re reciting a report,” he explained, adjusting his position. “Forgive the cliché, but…how did you feel during this time?”

I shrugged, suddenly very intrigued by the intricate patterns in the rug. “Exhausted. Scared. For myself and for my teammate, Bear. I was kind of…stuck in a limbo, almost, not knowing which would kill me first—the sepsis or Hollis. It helped to focus on a way to get out of there.”

“And what was your plan for that?”

“I had a knife on my ankle. Bear used it to tunnel out. The earth was damp and soft, so it only took him around eight hours, or so. Then he ran to find help.”

“So you were alone for a portion of your captivity?”

No, I had an imaginary friend. What the bloody hell did he think happened after Bear left, I spawned a twin? “Yes.”

_Deep breaths_ , I reminded myself, realizing that I was getting both defensive _and_ aggressive. Knowing me, that was never a good combination, especially towards someone who had a big say in when I could return to active duty. The last thing I wanted was to keep my unit out of the field because of my own weakness.

“And what happened during that time?”

I shrugged again. It was a safe gesture. “Not much.” Well, that was a damn lie. “I was unconscious for most of it; I’d been getting worse, and by then, I wasn’t doing well. Hollis came down to…ask me some questions, but he didn’t hurt me much.” Physically, anyways. “An hour or so later, he took me out front. He was going to shoot me and leave me for my unit to find. I’d managed to pry a zipper off of Bear’s jacket, and I bought them a few minutes by shoving it into his eye.”

The gruesome image flashed into my mind, and I had to blink it away. The few seconds of silence must have told the therapist volumes, but he let me continue uninterrupted. “Then my unit showed up and I was airlifted to a Czech hospital.”

Dr. Hash was silent for a moment, eyebrows drawn together in a pensive frown. “That sounds like a harrowing experience.”

“Well, it’s not something I’d like to repeat.”

“You don’t sound very upset,” he observed, sitting up straighter.

“I don’t like to dwell on things too much,” I bullshitted, going for a ‘well-adjusted’ vibe. “I was lucky to survive, and now it’s over. I suppose that’s all there is to it.”

“Well,” Dr. Hash said, picking up his file again and flipping through it. “You have a fairly long dossier when it comes to dealing with mental illness, Mr. Smith.”

I tensed, feeling my shoulders tighten. “I guess.”

“I’m concerned that, despite that, there’s no record of therapy on your medical records,” he said, leafing through the forms. “It seems like you have some trauma that hasn’t been properly addressed, and I’m concerned that this experience may exacerbate those other symptoms, despite the medication you’re on.”

I decided to helpfully withhold the fact that I wasn’t taking the medication. “I’ve been fine so far, and I think I’ll continue to be fine. I spoke to a family friend off the record a few times, and she was very helpful.”

“Would you like to discuss anything unrelated to your assignment?” He asked, looking up from his files and looking right at me.

“No,” I said stiffly, holding his gaze.

He sighed, glancing at the clock, and readjusting his glasses. “Well, it seems our half hour is up, anyways. I’d like you to come in a few more times while you’re on leave.”

“Is that necessary?” I asked, eyeing him as he crossed to his desk, scribbling something on a slip of paper.

“Well, it would make me feel more comfortable,” he admitted, handing the paper to me. “That’s your next appointment. You can reschedule with the receptionist if it doesn’t work, but I’d like to see you again in two weeks.”

Damn. That sucked. I wondered if I could reschedule it and keep doing so until we went back on duty. Or maybe I’d schedule it for Christmas Eve just to piss him off.

“Well, thank you,” I said, rising and practically fleeing the room, desperate to get out of the cramped space.

I stopped in the bathroom before I went back to the desk, splashing some cold water on my face and taking a second to breathe. My hands were shaking.

I took a deep breath as I leaned over the porcelain sink, willing my heart to calm. My chest felt tight.

Damn. I was a mess. I was held together with duct tape and pointless hope, and it seemed like every day, someone was picking at the edges of the tape with a grin and a promise to make it better.

I gave myself two more minutes to calm down, ignoring an employee who came in and gave me a questioning glance, before continuing to the lobby. I gave the slip to the receptionist who confirmed the appointment, and then found Lion, who’d moved on to a copy of _Home and Garden_. Sabina had like that magazine in California. I wondered what it was doing in England.

“Ready?” I asked, unable to help a smile as he jumped, not having heard me approach.

“Damn ghost,” he scowled without any heat, returning the magazine to its pile. “Sure. How’d it go?”

“Fine.”

He didn’t ask again.

…

“Are you serious?” I asked as Lion eased the car into the handicapped parking spot outside the bustling shopping center, looking towards the ice cream shop on the corner.

“Yes,” he said, turning off the engine and glancing at me. “You were white as a ghost after your appointment. I figure ice cream should help.”

“I’m not a kid, you know,” I said defensively, glancing at the shop. It seemed innocent enough. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had ice cream, either. I thought it might have been with Sabina on a boardwalk she liked to frequent, which just twisted my gut.

“Jaguar, I’m twenty-seven years old, and I have never once in my life turned down ice cream,” he said resolutely, opening his door. “Seriously. Come on.”

I sighed, resigned to my fate, and followed.

Lion got mint chocolate chip. I got Rocky Road.

It was a nice day, so Lion insisted we sit outside. I felt heat flame in my cheeks with every questioning look we received. After all, it wasn’t every day people saw two (almost) grown men eating ice cream on the patio.

“You’re quiet,” Lion said, fishing out a cigarette and lighting it, taking a long drag.

“I’m always quiet,” I defended, taking another bite. I’d missed ice cream.

Lion smirked, releasing a smoky breath. “I suppose.”

“Was there a reason you wanted to come get ice cream?” I asked.

“Why would there be?”

“Because you don’t seem like the kind of guy to waste gestures,” I said carefully.

Lion chuckled. “That’s not entirely true, but yeah. You caught me. I wanted to let you know that K-Unit will be hanging around a lot in December; they wanted to wait a bit so they could see their families on Christmas.”

I felt the blood drain from my face even as I looked away, hoping to hide the reaction. “Oh. Alright.”

“And that’s why I wanted to talk to you, because you reacted badly in the hospital, too,” Lion said, leaning forward. He looked more serious now, eyes honest and earnest. “What’s up, Jag? What’s wrong with K-Unit?”

Shit.

I took a breath, the taste of caramel turning to ash as I tried to keep the panic from overflowing. “Lion, I’d really…really rather not talk about it.”

“And I get that, kid, I do,” he said, looking concerned again. Damn, he should patent the expression. It made me feel defensive and guilty all in one go. “But I want to help, if there’s a problem. You can’t just keep everything to yourself all the time.”

“Lion—look, I don’t want to be rude, okay? I really don’t,” I started, knowing full well that what I was about to say would sound just that. “But honestly, you don’t get it. You don’t, and that’s fine. I wouldn’t want you to. But every time any of you asks me a question about…about me, or my past, or both, I feel like the world is about to end, alright? I feel like everything I’ve worked so hard to leave behind is going to come flooding back, and that will be the end of me. Every innocent question you ask, every time you think it’s going to be an easy answer, I’m wondering if I’m going to have a heart attack. That’s how much I’m panicking. And I know you—you told me about you, and what happened to you, and I was really grateful. I still am. But you were, at least you _seemed_ , prepared to do that, and I’m not. I can’t even tell you how terrifying it is to know that every day I’m going to be expected to reveal something else, knowing that one day I’m going to slip up and have it all come crumbling down. There are some things I _can’t_ talk about, that will just…absolutely blow everything I’ve tried to build to absolute _shit_ , and you can’t get that. So I’m sorry, but…no. Just…just no.”

I looked down when I was finally finished, watching a drop of runny chocolate ice cream fall through the gaps in the iron table to the pavement below. My heart was racing like usual, and my hands were clenched in fists beneath the table, my knee bobbing in nervousness and anger and…and fear. I didn’t want to look at Lion.

“I’m sorry,” I said after a second of silence, running a hand down my face. “Sorry, you—you didn’t deserve that.”

He didn’t answer. Damn, I’d probably offended him worse than I thought. Shit. All the progress we’d made, and I’d just taken it and—and blown it to hell, like everything else.

“I can’t drink because I’m terrified I’ll become my father,” Lion said quietly.

I glanced up, surprised, to see him looking out at the car park, eyes dark and far, far away. I opened my mouth to tell him that he didn’t have to say anything else, because this had absolutely not been my intention, but he kept going before I could.

“I’ve never had a sip of alcohol. When me and the guys hit the bar, or the club, I’m always the DD, because I can’t stand the thought of drinking like he did and becoming what he was. I think it scares me more than anything else.”

He paused, and I started, again, to tell him to stop, because now I felt like the worst human ever to walk the planet, but he kept going.

“I smoke,” he said, looking intently at the cigarette in his hand, “because when I was ten, he started burning me with them. When I was fifteen, I found a few under his bed. I wanted to…I wanted to understand the thing that hurt me, and I went and got myself addicted to nicotine. It was just a few at first. One every once in a while. By the time I was twenty-two, I was smoking a pack a day.

“I’ve been trying to quit. Tiger and Bear don’t know, but…I’ve been trying nicotine patches, cold turkey, reducing the number I smoke a day, and…well. It hasn’t gone very well, honestly.” He punctuated the statement with a sardonic shrug, and I could only sit in abject horror, knowing I’d been the one to prompt all these very private reveals, and I felt even worse.

“When I…when I was sixteen, he finally crossed a line.” Lion’s eyes darkened. I didn’t think that was possible anymore, but it happened. “He was…he had some poker buddies over. He…” Lion’s face twisted, and I could tell it was agonizing to get the words out, but somehow, he did. “The bastard was going to…was going to let them…have Angie. For the night.”

A cold stone of dread settled in my stomach.

“I stopped them, thank God,” Lion said, taking a drag on the cigarette, his hands shaking just slightly. “But…well, they gave me the beating of my life, and I wasn’t about to let it happen again. To either of us. Angie called the cops, and we disappeared before they got there. They tracked us down a few months later, but our dad was in jail, and that was all that really mattered.”

Lion finally stopped, and I thought I was going to drown in the guilt pooling around me. God, I was an asshole.

“You were right,” he said before I could apologize. He looked at me, and I’d never seen this side of Lion, and I never wanted to see it again. “It does kind of feel like the world’s ending.”

I couldn’t even answer him.

…

The car ride back was painfully, painfully silent, and I drafted and scrapped and re-drafted dozens and dozens of long-winded apologizes that could never, ever do my guilt justice.

Lion drove in silence. His shoulders were relaxed again, but his eyes were quiet, and there was no trace of the usual easy smile or friendly gaze.

I was officially the worst human alive.

I realized I’d run out of time when we pulled into the garage down the block from our flat, and I was nowhere near ready to apologize, but Lion was opening the door to get out, and…and it was now or never.

“I’m…I’m so sorry, Lion,” I said quietly, not looking at him as I fiddled with my sling. “I never meant…I’m so sorry I made you dredge all that up. I feel awful.”

Lion took a deep breath and closed the door, sinking back in his seat. His expression was blank. “You shouldn’t be. I’m sorry, too. If I had known that’s what you’ve been feeling for the past month and a half, I never would’ve pushed you.”

“What? No, I’m fine,” I said quickly, trying to redirect the conversation. “Seriously, I…thanks for telling me, but I feel really bad. I never meant for you to…to let everything out, you know?”

Lion finally looked at me, and I saw a shadow of a smile. “No worries, kid. I’ll be alright. Just…do me a favor and don’t mention it to the others, yeah?”

I nodded. Of course not.

He made to exit the car once more, but I had one more idea. “Hey.”

“Hm?” He said, turning to me.

“Listen, um…” I fiddled with my sleeves, feeling incredibly self-conscious and small, but determined, nonetheless. “I…I’ll make you a deal.”

I took a deep breath. “For…for every day that you don’t smoke, or that you meet your scaled-back goal…I’ll…I’ll answer a question.” I took a breath, but quickly continued, rambling, “But I totally have to right to veto a question. Like, you can’t just ask me to spill everything. But, um, if I veto one, you can ask another one. Just…yeah.”

I fidgeted uncomfortably for a few seconds, finally glancing at him. His eyes were wide. “Seriously? You don’t…why would you do that, kid? Now I know how much it sucks, I don’t want to make you do that.”

I shrugged. “You’ve…well, you’ve done a lot for me. This way, I guess…we can help each other?” I said, phrasing it like a question, feeling my neck heat up. “You don’t—you don’t have to. If it’s stupid please just tell me, and I’ll forget all about it.”

Of course he’d think it was stupid. It was the most childish thing I think I’d ever offered to anyone. Ever. I was feeling the embarrassment manifest in the sweat on my neck and my fidgety hands, waiting for him to shoot it down.

Instead, he smiled, slow and small, but genuine. Real and genuine and…touched.

I glanced at him, still self-conscious, and he ruffled my hair. I was surprised by how…gentle he seemed right now. Nothing like the intimidating SAS man I’d thought he was at first, just…someone like me with a lot of shit to unpack and no desire to do so.

But he gave a small laugh, shaking his head, and it was enough.

“I think I’d like that a lot, Jag.”

I blinked in surprise, but didn’t get a chance to answer as he patted my shoulder and got out of the car, stretching. He turned away from me, raising the cigarette he’d been smoking on the way to his lips, and pausing. A few seconds later, he crushed it under his boot, and threw it away.

After a second of uncertain silence, I gave a small, disbelieving laugh.

It…it was progress.

It was really good progress.

It was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so, so much for all the continued support, and for all of you who helped me out with the British terminology! :D Hope you liked the chapter. Let me know!


	18. Chapter 18

I fidgeted in the doorway, feeling like a man on death row. I hated meeting new people.

“You look like you’re about to walk the plank,” Tiger said, nudging my shoulder as he passed by me into the living room, book in hand. “It’s Lion’s sister, her husband, and a kid. It’s not an American Delta Force.”

I sent him a look, rolling my shoulders. It was easier now that I’d finally gotten rid of that bloody sling. “I don’t like new people. Sue me.”

Tiger smirked. “You’ll be fine. You speak six languages, I’m sure you’ll come up with something to say.”

I flipped him off, scowling. “Not the bloody point.”

“You _cannot_ start fighting before they even get here,” Lion called resolutely from the kitchen, flitting around like a regular housewife. Apparently, he was one hell of a cook. “I’m excited, and if you ruin it, you’re getting kicked out. End of discussion.”

“Yes, boss,” Tiger called, flipping to his last spot in his book.

Resigned to my fate, I wandered to the kitchen, watching Lion multitask like an octopus on steroids. “Can I help?”

Lion glanced at me, then at my arm. “Are you alright to? Are you tired?”

“I’m a little tired, but I think it will be good to move around,” I assured, rolling my left shoulder. “It aches a little, but it doesn’t really hurt.”

“Then you could cut some vegetables, if you’re bored,” he said, indicating a clear sliver of counterspace with a cutting board and a bowl of vegetables. “Dicing would be good.”

Well, I didn’t have anything better to do, anyways. I set to it, and we worked in companionable silence. It was nice to hear the flat so quiet, only the sounds of sizzling meat and the soft flaps of Tiger turning pages, the rhythmic thunk of the knife against the board.

Then Bear got back.

“Where’s my favorite nephew?” He shouted as he came in, and I peeked around into the hallway to see a couple bags on his arms. I assumed he’d gone shopping for something.

“Not here yet,” Tiger said. “You’re bloody loud.”

“One of my best traits,” he said, dumping the bags on the open armchair. “Lion, the runt still likes footie, right?”

“He’s obsessed with it,” Lion confirmed. “Come here and try this.”

Eventually, Tiger found his way into the kitchen as well, pestering Lion for samples. I had to smile at the absurd normalcy of the environment. It was odd when you considered what we did for a living.

Lion went on a time crunch about thirty minutes later, becoming an utter drill sergeant as he ordered us around like slaves. I wasn’t afraid to pull the sepsis card a little while later, earning a dirty look from Tiger, who took over my job drying dishes as I collapsed into the recliner.

“He’s gonna murder you,” Bear said as he came in, grabbing the bags from the chair to take to his room. “He hates dishes.”

“He’ll be fine,” I said, feeling a little devious.

Bear raised an eyebrow, shaking his head and laughing under his breath. “You’re a sneaky kid, I’ll give you that.”

I laughed, flipping on the tellie and setting it on a documentary. I figured I didn’t need to be watching anything too violent when the kid and his parents got here.

The doorbell rang a few minutes later, and I forced myself to calm down. They weren’t MI6 grunts, they weren’t SCORPIA assassins, they weren’t CIA spooks or ASIS spies. It was literally a small family with a small child. I was being bloody ridiculous.

That didn’t make me feel any better when Lion asked me to get the door.

I thought about protesting, but I figured Lion was busy trying not to burn the roast, and I was already on Tiger’s bad side. Best get it over with.

I opened the door to reveal Angelica, Jacob, and Jonah, who was holding his mother’s hand and bouncing on his feet. As soon as I’d turned the door handle, I heard a young voice shout, “Uncle Danny!”

I blinked as expectant eyes settled on me, only to darken in confusion as Jonah stared. He was wearing an Arsenal jersey and denim trousers, colorful trainers on his shuffling feet. “You’re not Uncle Danny.”

“Um…no,” I confirmed, glancing at the parents, who seemed amused. They didn’t seem surprised by the stranger in their brother’s flat, so I assumed Lion had told them about me. “I’m…a friend of your uncle. He’s in the kitchen with Ti—uh, Sam.”

I stepped aside to let them by, but they stopped inside the foyer. Angie had a smile that could light up a room, and when she fixed it on me, I blushed furiously. “Daniel’s told me a lot about you, sweetie. It’s great to finally meet you.”

She surprised my by hugging me, and I didn’t know what to do at first. I hadn’t been hugged in a long time. Awkwardly, I returned it, letting myself relax a bit.

It felt like Jack’s hugs.

“Um…it’s nice to meet you too,” I said as she pulled back, giving her an awkward smile. “And…and you, Jacob.”

Jacob shook my hand, and I noticed Jonah was bouncing expectantly, staring at his parents for permission. “Nice to meet you, Matthew. Yes, Jonah, you can go see Uncle Daniel now.” I distantly remembered Lion mentioning that Jacob was American, and he sounded it. He sounded a bit Southern, with wide vowels and muted consonants.

Jonah grinned, darting to the kitchen. I heard Lion yell in exaggerated surprise when he got there, and laughter followed. That was nice.

I was also immensely grateful when I realized that Lion hadn’t revealed my real name. I followed them into the living room, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease.

“Did I hear my favorite nephew?” Bear shouted from the hallway, and I got there just in time to see Jonah wriggle down from his spot on Tiger’s hip (which was utterly disconcerting) and run straight into Bear, who’d crouched down to meet him.

“Uncle Henry!” Jonah yelled as he all but tackled Bear, who exaggerated the force of Jonah’s body-slam with an _oomph_ , falling backwards.

“Man, kiddo, you’re sprouting like a weed! You’re not eating fertilizer, are you?” Bear asked, his face tight in mock seriousness, earning a giggle from the kid.

“No, that’s bad for you,” Jonah explained. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t,” Bear confirmed, picking the kid up under his arms and rising, hefting him onto his shoulders with a bit of struggling. “Man, in a couple years, I won’t be able to do this anymore. You’re getting big!”

I couldn’t help but smile at the sight, and at Jacob and Angelica greeting Lion, whose smile was absolutely beaming. After the conversation we’d had last week, I was glad to see him happy.

I tried to stay out of the way as they exchanged pleasantries and made small-talk, slipping through the crowded flat as quietly as I could. I was sitting on the couch drinking coffee and watching the muted news when Jonah bounced up to me, apparently having escaped the throng of adults in the kitchen, and shimmied up onto the couch beside me.

He stared up at me, and I shifted a little awkwardly at the child’s honest, innocent gaze, which was surprising straightforward. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Matthew,” I said, smiling. “You’re Jonah?”

“Mm-hm,” he said, sitting cross-legged on the cushion beside me. “Are you a soldier with Uncle Danny?”

“Yeah, I am,” I confirmed, setting my coffee down. I supposed I could talk to the kid for a while. It sounded like everyone else was talking about sports and financials, so I could understand his boredom.

“That’s cool. Do you shoot people?”

I blinked, reminding myself that it was an innocent question from a kid who didn’t know any better, and shifted. “Well…sometimes I need to, to keep us safe, but I don’t like to.”

Jonah nodded, looking oddly pensive for such a young kid. “That’s good. I want you to keep Uncle Danny and Uncle Sam and Uncle Henry safe.”

I had to laugh quietly. He seemed like a good kid. “I’ll do my best, Jonah.”

“Pinky promise!”

I had to admit, the kid was adorable. I didn’t feel so tense, now. “Sure.”

He surprised me by performing the familiar gesture, then saying, “I promise not to tell a lie, or I’ll swallow a thousand needles!”

I blinked. “Uh…”

“It’s a Japanese pinky promise! Uncle Sam taught it to me.”

“Oh,” I said, glad for the clarification. I spoke the language, but I wasn’t familiar with all the customs. “Well, I definitely don’t want to swallow any needles, so I’ll do my best.”

He looked at me for a second, then nodded to himself, as if in approval. “Okay. Come play with me.”

He grabbed my hand, dragging me forward off the couch and onto the ground, rummaging around in his Pingu rucksack. “Okay. What do you want to play?” I figured I’d much rather spend my time with a little kid who didn’t ask questions than the adults, though I had a feeling Jacob and Angelica weren’t the type to pry.

“Go Fish,” he said resolutely, putting a sealed deck of cards on the table. He wasn’t anywhere near tall enough to see over the edge of the glass table sitting down, so he knelt, leaning over the table with his elbows and looking at me expectantly. “I can’t shuffle.”

“Not a problem,” I assured, taking solace in the relative peace of the empty living room and the comforting chatter from the kitchen. As with the kitchen earlier, the normalcy was really, really nice after everything. I’d had a lot weighing on my mind—the imminent arrival of K-Unit, Lion’s and my deal, my upcoming therapy sessions, and the heavy feeling of some impending doom…it was very, very nice to just settle down and play a card game with a little kid who was still innocent to the dangers of the world.

I wondered when I’d lost that innocence.

I wondered when he’d lose his.

“I figured I’d come rescue you, but it looks like you’re doing fine,” I heard Angelica’s voice in the doorway, and she came and sat down beside us, holding a glass of wine. I supposed she was alright with drinking, unlike Lion. She smiled at me. “Thanks for hanging out with him.”

“It’s not a problem,” I assured, feeling a little awkward, but not nervous, like before. “He’s a good card player.”

“I beat him twice!” Jonah said proudly. It was hard to let someone win at go fish, but by God, I’d tried my best, and it paid off.

“Did you really?” Angelica said, eyes wide in excitement and pride. “Good for you, little man! Who’s winning now?”

“I am, but I have no doubt he’ll beat me soon,” I said seriously, gazing at Jonah’s stacked books.

She chuckled lightly, sitting down beside her son. “Jonah, I think Daddy wants to talk to you with your uncles. Wanna run into the kitchen?”

Jonah looked concerned, glancing suspiciously at me. “Are you going to peek at my cards?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I assured him.

“I’ll keep your cards safe,” she whispered seriously, kissing his temple as he reluctantly released his cards, giving them to his mother.

“Daddy!” He shouted running into the kitchen. “I beat Matthew at Go Fish!”

I heard several exclamations of surprise and approval, and had to smile.

“He’s a good kid,” I said as Angelica picked up her son’s cards, studying them. I didn’t have anything else to say to start a conversation.

She smiled, eyes sparkling. “Thank you. He’s a little terror, but he’s precious.”

I smiled down, unsure of how to respond. “Any twos?” I asked, half-joking.

“Go fish,” she said, settling down with her hand. “I did want to talk to you.”

I sat up a little straighter, my hand stilling over the pawn before I selected a card. A Queen. “What about?”

“Any Queens?” She asked first. Damn. I handed it over, and she smirked a little at my thin scowl. “Well, Daniel tells me a lot. We’re…we’re pretty close, you know. We had to be.”

I nodded. I assumed she knew what Lion had told me. I wasn’t sure how much she knew about me, though.

“I wanted to say thank you,” she admitted, smiling slightly. “He told me about that…that first mission. A bit, anyways. He can’t tell me much, obviously, because of the confidentiality, but…he told me enough. Thanks for protecting them.”

I hesitated, caught off guard by her honesty and by her words, and nodded slightly. “Um…of course. I…I mean, I was just doing my job.”

She smirked. “It’s more than that, honey. And I’m indebted to you.” She glanced at the kitchen, nebulas in her eyes as they shone under the sunlight streaming in. “All three of them are…are very important to me. We never had much of a family, Daniel and me. When he met them…well.” She shrugged, eyes far away. “It was like we’d gained two brothers. Three, in Elliot.”

My heart fell a little. I felt bad for them. Elliot’s loss seemed to run a lot deeper in this little family than I first thought.

“I’m sorry,” I said, putting my cards down. I had a feeling she wasn’t much up for the game anymore.

She gave me a smile, but it was a little sad. “It’s fine, sweetie. It was a while ago. Besides, you haven’t had a good run of it either, I’ve heard.”

I faltered, eyes widening in delayed panic, and she said quickly, “I don’t know any specifics. Daniel just said that you’d…you’d been through a lot. That’s all.”

The panic receded like an ebbing tide, but it still left an uncomfortable buzz in my blood. “…oh.”

She smiled again. She did that a lot, smiled. They were all different, though. She had Lion’s eyes, even though the color was different. Their eyes were expressive enough to unsettle me sometimes. “I’m sorry. I should’ve led with that.”

“No, it’s fine,” I said quickly. “Um…was…was there anything else?”

She nodded, glancing at the door before continuing over the chatter from the kitchen. “He told me about your deal.” She reached across the table, taking my hand in hers, and looked at me with honest eyes tha reminded me of her son. “Thank you. It means very, very much to me that you’re willing to help him, and…he didn’t want to tell Sam or Henry just yet, so I’m glad someone knows.”

She grinned, laughing a little, and said, “For as selfless and kind as he is, he’s still a stupid man, sometimes, and he doesn’t like accepting help, or asking for it. I think…I think he feels more comfortable with you, since you haven’t known him as long, if that makes sense. You can’t…you know, you don’t know everything, so he can tell you a little more.”

I nodded along as she spoke, completely understanding her reasoning. “That makes sense.” I shrugged, glancing away. She was still holding my hand. “I…I suppose I feel the same. Lion’s been…really awesome, even though I have to be…kind of secretive, and I’m glad to help.”

Angelica smiled, squeezing my hand before letting go. “I’m glad you can help each other. Thank you, Matthew. Truly.”

I smiled. I think, besides my little smile for Jonah, it was the first genuine one of the day. “I…I appreciate you telling me all that.”

“Hey, what’s with the whispering?” Jacob asked, ambling into the living room with an easy smile and Jonah on his hip, followed by Bear and Tiger. “You plotting against us?”

“Yes,” Angelica said, winking at her husband. “We’re going to Vegas to put our excellent go-fish skills to use.”

“What’s in Vegas?” Jonah asked, scooting over from his father to settle on Tiger’s lap. My brain was still loading the image, because I never, ever thought I’d see Tiger so comfortable to be holding a child. Ever.

“I sincerely hope you never find out, little man,” Angelica said, laughing. “Daniel, when’s lunch?”

“Geez, you’re vultures, all of you,” Lion shouted from the kitchen. “Jag, come here and help me. You’re the only one who hasn’t scavenged for scraps yet.”

I obliged with a laugh, giving Jonah a high-five as I passed. “What’s up?”

“Could you stir this until it reduces?” He said, moving from in front of the stove to check on the roast, cooling on the counter. I glanced into the pot. It was some kind of roux, and it smelled bloody _amazing_.

“I didn’t know you were Gordon Ramsey in your free time,” I admitted, stirring idly as I watched him work.

He laughed a little, looking tired, but happy. “I’ve always had a knack for it, I guess. It was interesting to see what variations we could make with pasta and hot dogs. Kind of a staple in our house.”

I smiled, remembering Jack’s atrocious cooking skills and her inability to boil water without setting off the smoke alarm. “Ours was macaroni and cheese and hamburger meat. We got creative.”

Lion laughed. “Your uncle couldn’t cook either?”

I faltered, and the stirring slowed until I remembered what I was supposed to be doing. Vibrant red hair and flames filled my vision, and I blinked quickly. “My uncle could. He was good at it.”

I didn’t elaborate, and God bless Lion, he didn’t ask me to.

…

Lunch was a hectic affair. The kitchen table was far too small for the seven of us, so we piled into the living room. Lion, Angelica, and Jacob sat squashed on the couch, Tiger and Bear in the armchairs, and Jonah sat on the floor, eating off the glass table. At his insistence, I joined him.

Lion was an _awesome_ cook. The roast was rich and tender, and the potatoes were just the right golden brown, and the vegetables were tender and seasoned. I was secretly proud that I’d helped make them. Just a bit.

That was horribly childish, but nobody else had to know.

I was fine just listening to the banter and conversation weave around me. I listened and laughed, and I’d been doing so much talking recently that it felt very nice to just…slow down. To slow down and let the world move around me without racing to catch up with it for once. We spent a good portion of the late morning and early afternoon sitting in the living room talking, long after the plates were empty and the food was packaged in the fridge.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Bear said during a lull in the conversation, jumping up. “I got you something, Jonah.”

Jonah’s eyes burst with stars, and Angelica managed an expression both fond and exasperated. “You spoil him, Henry.”

“I’m allowed to, he’s my only nephew” Bear shot back, returning from his room with one of the shopping bags he’d brought in earlier. “That’s for you.”

Jonah hopped off the couch with a sharp “Thank you!” and put his arms around the large bag, toppling to his bum on the rug to open it. He fished around in the tissue paper and eventually emerged with a brand new football.

I had to smile at his excitement. I missed footie.

“Thank you, Uncle Henry!” He shouted, giving Bear a big hug before marveling at the gift. “Can we take it to the park? Please please please?”

“Ask your parents, not me,” Bear said, nodding towards Angelica and Jacob.

“Mummy, Daddy, can I please go to the park with Uncle Henry?” He asked, eyes wide and pleading.

Angelica laughed, tousling her son’s hair. “Of course, but only for a little while, alright?”

“Can Matthew come?”

I blinked, glancing at the kid in surprise. I didn’t think I’d made _that_ much of an impression.

“Why don’t you ask Matthew?” Jacob suggested.

Jonah looked at me with wide, round eyes, and I was unfortunately hooked before the kid even said a word. “Matthew, will you come to the park to play football with me and Uncle Henry?”

Tiger nudged my shoulder with his socked foot, and I sent him a glare, sighing. “Sure, Jonah.”

The kid beamed. Well, that was worth it, at least.

The little park was only a block down the road. Bear let Henry ride on his shoulders, holding his football on top of Bear’s head. I was glad I’d grabbed a windbreaker before we’d gone; it was getting chillier as the sun set. There weren’t many people around; there were a couple families picnicking in the shade on the other side of the park, and an old man bundled in a coat on a bench, but that was it.

Bear hefted Henry off of his shoulders and onto the grass, where he dropped the ball and clumsily kicked it to Bear, stumbling. He used the toe of his shoe.

Bear sent it to me next, and Jonah giggled as he stumbled, too, exaggerating. I smiled a little, kicking it back to Jonah with the inside of my foot, the familiar footie motions taking me back to a much happier, much simpler time. I forgot how much I loved football.

“Did you used to play?” Bear asked, catching the ball that Jonah kicked at him. “You’re passing like a pro.”

I smiled as Jonah gave the ball a mighty kick, sending Bear staggering backwards to catch it before it went into the road. “I played for a few years, yeah. I miss it.”

“Well, it shows,” he said with a grin. “Jonah! Let’s play you and me against Matthew!”

I laughed as Jonah’s eyes got wide, and he bounced up and down at the prospect. “Yeah, yeah!”

We managed to find some long sticks that we set up about a meter and a half, maybe ten meters away from each other, which would be our goals. Bear made a big deal about going over the rules and regulations, but Jonah was enraptured by every word. He really liked football.

We played for about ten minutes before I felt myself tiring, my limbs falling heavy with fatigue. I supposed while I was a lot better, and able to do everyday tasks and walk around with ease, exercise like this, even light, was still not a great idea.

I said as much to Bear. “Are you okay?” He asked quickly, stopping the ball with his foot.

“Yeah, I’m just going to sit on the bench,” I said, sitting on the bench on the side of the field, still quite close to Bear and Jonah. “Carry on. I’ll referee.”

Jonah had that pensive look again. “Why’re you tired?”

I smiled. “I got hurt a few weeks ago, and I’m still trying to get better. Sometimes I get tired. I’m okay.”

Jonah narrowed his eyes with the sharpness of a suspicious schoolteacher, but eventually let the matter drop. “Okay.”

It was nice to sit in the cool air and watch the tranquil scene. Bear was a great uncle. I figured he would be, with his bubbly personality and all the time he spent at the youth center, but it was interesting to see it in action.

Fifteen minutes later or so, Bear jogged over. “I’m gonna go grab him an ice cream from the truck down the street,” he said, and I turned in the direction he was looking to see a white ice cream truck, a few kids gathered around it. I guessed not even the cold could deter the kids. “Watch him, okay? You want anything?”

“I’m good,” I assured, glancing at him as he jogged to the truck, fishing some notes out of his pocket. I glanced back at Jonah. There wasn’t anyone around, really; the picnicking families had since packed up and departed. Jonah was working on his dribbling with the concentration of a bomb technician, kicking the ball up and down the makeshift court.

I glanced back at Bear. He was a few kids deep, from what I could see. He’d be a couple minutes. I had to grin at the sight of Bear, with his tall, lanky frame, towering over the toddlers waiting in line with their parents.

I looked back at Jonah, and almost had a heart attack.

I’d always been somewhat skeptical when I saw a kidnapping on the news from a park, or a playground, and the parent claimed to have only been looking away for a second. It always seemed so unrealistic to me. How could ten seconds of inattention possibly lead to a missing child? There must have been something more going on.

I regretted that judgment now. I hadn’t been looking away more than five or six seconds, but that was enough time for the man I’d seen earlier on the park bench to amble up to Jonah, and he was now reaching for his arm. Ten more seconds, he could have spirited him away, and I wouldn’t have known.

Jonah’s face was twisted in confused fear as he clutched his football. The man’s face was old and haggard, but he was large enough, and he towered over the boy. His eyes were dark.

I leapt from my seat, fatigue forgotten, and practically flew to his side.

The man’s hand had encircled Jonah’s bicep, and Jonah had started to yell out when I skidded to a stop beside them. Self-defense techniques and tricks from my martial arts training filled my mind, and the man barely had time to blink before I’d grabbed his thumb and twisted his hand away from Jonah’s arm, pushing the boy firmly behind me.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” I growled, feeling protective hackles rise as Jonah began sniffling behind me.

I still had the man’s thumb in my hand, and I wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon. He looked like a pathetic drunk you’d see on the street or in a shadowed alley.

“What the hell—le’me _go_ ,” the man said, eyes narrowed in clumsy anger. I assumed he was buzzed, at least. “Bloody bugger. I’m tryin’ ta meet ma grandson. Move, ya bloody prat. Who the hell’re you?”

The words slammed into me, and I froze for a brief second, the man’s thumb slipping from my lax grip. He cradled the injured hand to his chest, murder in his eyes.

The words finally made sense, and I felt my blood begin to simmer, and smoke, and boil.

I’d had plenty reasons to be angry. Angry with the world, with MI6, with Blunt, with Ian, with my parents. With myself. I’d won some awards for angry outbursts when no one was looking.

I didn’t think I’d ever been _quite_ this angry.

“Jonah,” I said, realizing that my voice had dropped dangerously low, and my posture had become poised to strike, should the need arise. “Turn around. Do you see Bear? By the ice cream truck?”

I didn’t turn around, instead holding the older man’s eyes. He was perhaps in his fifties, with graying hair and a sloppy beard. He was wearing baggy, dirty clothes, and he was undoubtedly a little drunk. Despite that, he was almost as big as Lion was now. He wasn’t nearly as muscled, but his girth was impressive, and I had no doubt without my training, I’d lose the fight quickly.

As it was, I was tired. But the rage in my blood more than made up for it.

I heard Jonah give a quiet affirmative.

“Go to him. Run and don’t stop until you get there.”

I heard him hesitate, his feet shuffling in the crimson leaves. “But—”

“ _Now_.”

I heard him whimper, and run. I didn’t want to scare the poor kid, but I needed him out of here.

“Oi, wha’dya think you’re doin?” The man asked, buzzed clumsiness slipping into tight anger as he tried to storm past me, but I put myself in his path, glowering up at him. If looks could kill, this man would be burning in hell.

“You’re not going to touch him, you bastard,” I growled. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a human being, you know that?”

I risked a glance behind me, pleased to see that Jonah had reached Bear, football in hand, and Bear was crouched down, holding the boy’s shoulders.

Good. He was safe.

I turned back around just in time to see the fist hit my nose.

It wasn’t particularly hard, or damaging. It was sloppy and off-kilter, but it was enough to stun me. I reeled back, hands flying to my nose in surprise as reflexive tears flooded my eyes, blinking rapidly and cursing.

I saw, out of the corner of my eye, him trying to scurry past me, towards Jonah.

Oh, bloody hell. He’d struck first. All bets were off.

As he staggered past me, I let my training take over. I let my instincts take over. I let my _rage_ take over.

First, I swung my fist around and hit him in the face, like he’d done me, but I was trained. It was a much better, much more damaging, hit. He staggered back, shouting, and I moved up beside him.

I grabbed his left arm, using his forward momentum to twist it up and kick his knee out, wrenching his shoulder up as he collapsed to his knees, yelling in pain. He grabbed for me with his free hand, but I shoved my knee into his back, and he toppled face-first into the leaves, spluttering in the dirt.

I pinned his free wrist to the ground with my foot, sitting on his back. Without the leverage of his arms of legs, and with his shoulder almost dislocated, he couldn’t gather the momentum to flip me off even if he wanted.

“Get—get _offa me_ ,” he yelled, his feet thunking uselessly against the grass. People were staring, now, the few that were around. “You— _mother_ —”

“No, you shut up and listen to me, you bastard,” I growled, twisting his arm harder as red bathed my vision, listening to him cry out in pain. “You don’t have a single right to Jonah. You don’t have a single right to Lio—to Daniel, or Angelica. You’re a pathetic, _pitiful_ son of a bitch who couldn’t even appreciate the kids he was given, so you have _absolutely no right_ to a relationship with Jonah.

“Daniel is ten times the man you are, and I hope one day you realize that, and then realize that you can take absolutely no credit for it. He dragged himself out from under your thumb and became a soldier with his own unit and his own family. And Angelica got married and had an amazing kid and is _happy_ despite all the shit you put them through.”

I paused, knowing that I was dangerously close to losing control. I was always very careful to keep my emotions in check, because I knew that if I snapped, I had the training and ability to do someone serious harm, but my blinders were off now. It seemed like years of repressed rage and anger and _hurt_ that I couldn’t avenge for myself was pouring out as I tried to avenge my friend and his sister and their stolen childhood. This was the man who—who made those awful marks on Lion’s chest and back, and who offered Angelica, that bright, smiling woman with enough happiness to outshine the sun, to his poker buddies for fun.

I didn’t even have the presence of mind to be scared of myself.

“If I wanted to, I could break your arm like this,” I said quietly, putting just a bit more pressure on his shoulder to prove my point, listening to the pathetic whine that left his mouth. “Or I could dislocate your elbow, or your shoulder. Do you want that? Did you ever do that to your kids? How do you think it felt, huh?”

I secured my grip on his wrist and grabbed the back of his neck, my mind blazing with hellfire. “I could kill you in this position. If I wanted to. How many times did you hurt them like this? Did you pin them down and terrify them and hurt them, huh? Tell me why I shouldn’t do the same to you.”

The man was a sobbing mess, now, but I barely registered it. I was still raging and boiling and erupting with volcanic force, and I couldn’t be stopped anymore. I couldn’t—

“ _ALEX_!”

I distantly realized, belatedly, that someone had been calling my name for a long time.

I looked up, startled, and saw Bear staring at me. His eyes were wide, and…and afraid.

And Jonah was in his arms, sobbing with his face pressed against Bear’s shoulder, his new football forgotten at his feet.

I blinked, gasping a little as I came back to myself, looking at the man writhing beneath me, crying out in pain. Hesitantly, I let go of his arms and stumbled backwards, off of him, sitting on the ground as I caught my breath. He rolled over, yelling in pain as he clutched him arm to his chest.

I blinked again, my face throbbing, and wiped a sleeve under my nose. It came away bloody, and I registered the taste of pennies in my mouth. I spit to the side, shakily, and stood. I wobbled. I’d been playing football, and then this, and I was already tired this morning. The crashing adrenaline didn’t help matters. I quickly sat back down.

“Al—Jag?” Bear asked carefully, and I looked at him with wide, blank eyes, realizing how close I’d come to seriously injuring the man. He deserved it. He absolutely deserved it.

But I didn’t…I didn’t want to be that person. The ruthless soldier that took out his anger on those who couldn’t fight back, no matter their crimes. The person MI6 wanted me to be. The person SCORPIA had tried to turn me into.

“Take…take Jonah to his parents,” I said, still breathing heavily. “And…and call the police.”

For once in my life, though, fate was on my side. Apparently a bystander who’d seen the man approach Jonah and had seen me confront the man had called the police for us, and two constables jogged up quickly from the road opposite the park, where their car was parked.

“What’s happened here?” One of them asked, crouching beside me as I shook under the weight of what I’d threatened to do and what I’d almost done and the fear in Jonah’s body language and Bear’s eyes.

I’d scared him. My friend, and my friend’s nephew. I’d scared them.

“He—” I started, nodding at the man on the ground, who was being checked over by the other officer. “He, uh…he tried to grab Jonah,” I said quietly, still in shock. I felt myself going cold. The adrenaline crash and the shock of what I’d done and threatened and the fatigue was all weighing on me, and my nose was still bleeding. “I…”

The constable could obviously see I was out of it, and her eyes were narrowed in concern. “Okay, alright. Just calm down, lad, everything’s fine now.”

But it wasn’t, because I’d scared him. I’d scared Bear. I’d finally found people worth keeping around, worth compromising myself and my safety for, and now…now—

He’d tell Lion and Tiger. He’d tell them what I’d done. How I’d almost _snapped_ and broken a defenseless man’s arm. No matter what he’d done, I—that was—

“I’d like…I’d like to go,” I said quickly. I looked up and saw Bear talking quickly on the phone, Jonah still secure in his arms. He wasn’t looking at me, but I wasn’t sure if it was deliberate or not. “Can I?”

“I’m afraid not, until we get a better picture of what happened,” she said apologetically, putting a hand on my shoulder. I didn’t see her move to do so, and I jerked violently under the touch, completely on edge. Her eyes darkened at the movement.

I didn’t want to scare her, too. I didn’t—I didn’t want to scare anybody.

“I didn’t…I didn’t mean—” I started, watching as the old man was handcuffed and made to sit up by the other constable. His arms were in front of him, I supposed to keep from further straining his shoulder.

“I need you to calm down, love,” she said gently, looking quite worried now. She turned to Bear. “Do you know him? Is this Jonah?”

Bear’s eyes were blazing. He was angry with me. I was sure. He was angry because I’d gone and scared Jonah, and him, and I’d almost—I’d almost—

“Yeah, the bastard over there is a convicted child abuser,” he spat, venom in his words as he cupped the back of Jonah’s head. “Not of Jonah, but of his mother, and my friend. They’re coming down now; they live in the apartment building down the street.”

They’re coming down now.

No, I—I didn’t want them to—I didn’t want them to know. Bear knew. That was bad enough. And Jonah knew, and he was terrified. I’d—I’d almost…

“Please, can I go?” I asked, swiping a trembling hand beneath my nose. It wasn’t stopping. Why wasn’t it stopping?

“No, love, I’m sorry,” she said. “Listen, I need you to take deep breaths, alright?”

I heard Bear’s quiet words to Jonah, who sat down and hugged his ball to his chest, and suddenly Bear was switching places with the female constable, crouching quietly and slowly, eyes worried. Or afraid. I couldn’t tell. I didn’t want to know.

“Alex,” he said quietly. “Can I touch you?”

I shook my head, staring blankly at the man that I’d almost—

This was different. I’d killed before, of course I had, I’d had to. But it had been in self-defense, or in the heat of battle, or a complete accident. This…this reminded me of shooting Julius Grief as he lay in the street in a pool of his own blood. He’d had his gun raised at me, but I’d been waiting for it. Waiting for an excuse to justify the murder of the son of a bitch who’d stolen my best friend and guardian and—

And was I doing the same thing here? Using his crimes as an excuse to murder him, because he’d so badly hurt one of the only people I gave a damn about anymore?

“Alex.”

I blinked and gasped again, realizing again where I was and what was happening. Bear’s hand was hovering above my shoulder, and he looked very, very scared. I couldn’t tell if it was of me or for me.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” I stammered, blinking rapidly, absently swiping a hand under my nose. “I—”

“No, oi, no, do _not_ be sorry,” Bear said, eyes glinting like steel under the sun, and I flinched. He was mad. He was angry with me. I wasn’t allowed to be sorry, because every movement had been intentional, and—

“If you hadn’t done it, I might have,” Bear said, finally, slowly, settling his hand on my shoulder. “I need you to _breathe_ , Alex. You’re panicking.”

Of bloody course I was panicking. I knew that.

Still, I didn’t want to do anything else wrong, so I listened, and tried to take a deep breath. My limbs were shuddering as I sat hunched and folded on the ground, my lungs constricting with lingering panic.

I heard a cry of alarm, and it sounded like Angelica. I looked up to see her sweeping Jonah into her arms, Jacob enveloping them both to his chest, face twisted in rage and hatred and worry.

Lion and Tiger were right behind them. Lion went to Jonah, sweeping a hand through the sobbing child’s hair, face pinched in uncharacteristic terror until he was sure that Jonah was unhurt. His eyes scanned the park before landing on his father, who was being questioned by the constable.

I didn’t ever want to see Lion look like that ever again.

Tiger had to physically restrain his friend from rushing his father, and eventually Bear had to leave me and go help. Lion was spitting insults from every culture he could get his mind around, and I was fairly sure I’d never even heard some of those words before.

I looked at the old man, who was sitting placidly on the ground, swaying back and forth. He kept his arm tucked tightly against his chest, as much as he could with the cuffs, and his face was bleeding. I thought it might have been from his mouth.

He looked at his son and scoffed. “Quit yer whinin’, boy. Yer bloody guard dog almos’ broke m’arm. M’suing.”

At those words, Lion, though still enraged, glanced at me. It was as if he’d seen me there for the first time, understandably.

He shook off Tiger’s and Bear’s hands and jogged to me, crouching down. He looked worried.

I didn’t want him to know. He’d be angry, like Bear, and I’d—

Oh, my God. Would I have to leave?

“Jag?” He said, worried and angry all at once. He reached for me, I suppose to take my chin and look at my face, but I flinched back, and he stilled.

“It’s just me,” he said quietly. “I won’t hurt you. I’m sorry.”

Why wasn’t he yelling at me? I’d almost become the thing SCORPIA wanted. I’d almost—I’d thought about killing a man in cold blood.

It was a line I’d never crossed, and I couldn’t—I couldn’t—

“I think he’s in shock,” Bear said, and he was standing beside me now. “I don’t know why, though. I think he was only hit once.”

I was in shock. At myself. At what I’d almost done.

I thought I’d left that murderous, vengeful part of my behind when I’d left SCORPIA. I thought I’d gotten the lingering shreds out of my system when I’d murdered Julius Grief.

I was terrified, because I’d scared Bear, and Jonah, and most of all, myself.

…

“Finally,” Bear muttered, taking the last tissue away from my nose. “Took its bloody time to clot.”

I blinked, the painful buzz in my sinuses overshadowed by the lingering numbness. I was more in control of myself now, at least, enough to know that even after what I’d done, I’d still managed to make one hell of a scene. I didn’t want to talk about it, I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I just wanted to go to sleep.

“Are you feeling better?” Tiger asked from the doorway of Elliot’s room, eyes drawn together in unusually expressive worry.

I nodded, still embarrassed and scared. Of myself and of their anger. “Yes. Sorry.”

I listened intently. I could hear Lion and Angelica and Jacob talking quietly in the living room. They’d put Jonah down in Lion’s room to sleep while we figured everything out. The events had exhausted him.

He’d been scared of me. So had Bear.

“Quit apologizing,” Bear said pointedly, putting the last tissue in the rubbish bin, where a decent collection of bloody tissues had piled up. “You were protecting Jonah.”

No. No, I’d gone far beyond protecting Jonah. Protecting Jonah would have been hitting him once, enough to knock him down for a little while, and calling the police. I’d gone further.

I didn’t say as much, but I was sure my silence was enough. I fidgeted, messing with the blanket in front of me with nervous hands. I didn’t want to look at them.

“Jag.” Bear’s voice. Quiet and insistent. “Talk to me.”

I closed my eyes, squeezing them shut. “I scared you.”

There was a second of silence, and my heart was pounding, and like I’d told Lion, it felt like the words brought the earth to a screeching halt. Of course, it didn’t, and I knew that. But the pressure of fear felt like it.

“What?”

I sighed, my nose throbbing at the action. I glanced at Bear, hating myself for how timid I felt right now. I felt like a child. I wasn’t supposed to be a child anymore. “I scared you. And Jonah. I was—I almost broke his arm, Bear. I told him—”

I choked on the words, sliding my fingers up through my hair in an effort to maintain some semblance of control. I put my face down towards the comforter, shame and fear pushing down on my shoulders as I slumped. “I threatened to kill him. I scared you. I saw your eyes, Bear. When you—when I finally—woke up, I guess, you…you looked bloody terrified.”

I took a breath, and it was shaky and broken. “I didn’t mean to. To scare you. I really didn’t. I never meant to go that far, I was just—just mad, and worried, and—and…”

“No, no, nononono,” Bear said quickly, sounding flustered. He put a hand on my back as I grasped my hair, shaking in front of him. “Aw, Jag, no, mate. No, I wasn’t afraid of you. Come on. I—the situation got to me, man. I never expected to meet Lion’s father, and definitely not like that. And Jonah was crying, and you were bleeding, and—I was worried about you, Jaguar. You weren’t responding to me. I wasn’t afraid of you, kid.”

“You should’ve been,” I said quietly, unwilling to accept his words just yet. “I could’ve done it, and I’m—I’m so afraid that I might have, if you hadn’t woken me up. I—I just…”

“Oi,” Tiger said, and he’d come to stand at the end of the bed. His eyes were dark and intense, and I flinched as I met them. He seemed to realize it, and relaxed a little. “Seriously. You were protecting Jonah, and Bear, too. You got a little carried away, but you didn’t do anything. Nothing happened that can’t be fixed. You need to realize that.”

 _But it could have_ , a small voice whispered in my head.

“What’re you so afraid of?” Bear asked, his hand still solid on my back, keeping my grounded to the moment.

I took a shaky breath. “I—I…I was…” I stopped. This was big. This was a big thing to reveal. This would…it would set them off, maybe. It would make them angry if they weren’t already. They wouldn’t be able to put up with me after this. I wouldn’t.

Maybe I deserved it.

“I was…with a group for a while,” I started slowly. “And they were very, very horrible people, but I thought…I thought they could help me. I was told a lot of lies and a lot of half-truths, and…and I really thought they could help me. And they taught me how to…how to kill. How to hurt. They wanted to turn me into…into something I never wanted to be, and…I’ve avoided it. I’ve killed people, I have, but it’s always…self-defense. I never try. I never wanted to. That’s why I can’t shoot human targets. It reminds me of them, of their…training. And…”

I shuddered, and I couldn’t look at them, nearly buried by the shame and guilt surrounding me. “And I came really close today, to becoming what they wanted me to be, and it…it really scared me.”

Bear’s hand was very still against my back. But it was still there, at least.

My face was buried in my arms, turned resolutely towards the comforter, and I refused to look at them and see the accusation and the distrust and…and the fear. I waited. And I waited. And I tensed as something rustled and I waited.

“Good.”

That…wasn’t what I was waiting for.

“Huh?” That was Bear. Tiger had said that it was good. Bear had sounded as clueless as I felt.

I risked a glance up at Tiger through suspicious eyes, and his face wasn’t…it wasn’t angry, but it’s not blank, either. It’s…thoughtful. “I said, good. It’s good that it scared you. It means that’s not you, Jaguar, and the fact that you’re conscious of that means that you can keep from becoming that.”

Tiger came around towards me, and I tried very hard not to flinch. I needn’t have worried. He just settled a hand on my head and gave me a half-smile, tousling my hair and squeezing the back of my neck in reassurance. “You couldn’t be a killer if you tried, brat.” He thunked my chest lightly with his knuckles. “It’s not in you. I promise.”

I could only stare up at him for a second, finally forcing myself to look down as my throat bobbed. I sniffed. It hurt.

“You sure?” I asked quietly.

“Positive.” Immediate. No hesitation.

“See? No reason to be scared,” Bear said, squeezing my shoulder before finally letting go. “I’m not scared, and Tiger’s not scared. I don’t even think Jonah was scared. Well, not of you.”

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t deserve them. I didn’t deserve them at all. Not a bit. They were—they were so good, and so _kind_ , and supportive, and I did not deserve them at all. They were far, far too good for me.

Luckily, I was saved from having to answer when Lion appeared in the doorway, looking exhausted. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Bear assured, grabbing the extra gauze from the counter. He’d had to bandage my knuckles. Well, I’d told him to leave it, but he’d insisted. “Finally got the bleeding to stop. Set some things straight.” He thumped my shoulder, and I gave an acknowledging grunt.

Lion nodded. “Good. Can I have a minute?”

Oh, shit. Here it comes.

Bear and Tiger left, and Lion sat down on the edge of the bed. “You alright?”

I nodded. “Just bruised, nothing broken.”

He nodded thoughtfully, eyes far away. I couldn’t even imagine the toll this day must have taken for him. And he’d been so excited. I was pissed all over again. “Good.”

I fidgeted. “Are you okay?”

Lion smiled at nothing, small and thin. “I think so. I will be, anyhow.” He paused. “Angie talked to me earlier, in the kitchen. Apparently he’s been following them around. She’s been trying to get a restraining order, and…she never thought he’d follow them across the country, or approach him.”

I nodded, eyes furrowed in both anger and concern. “I’m sorry. That sounds awful.”

He shrugged. “I’m just glad everything’s alright, really. I was…I was so worried about Jonah, and you, honestly, that…I don’t think it’s hit me yet.”

I glanced at him, unsure of what to say. “Well…when it does…let me know if I can do anything.”

Lion smiled genuinely, then, chuckling under his breath. “Well, I think you’ve done plenty, Jag. I’ve got quite the protector.”

I forced a smile.

“I didn’t mean to listen in, but…I heard what you told Bear and Tiger.”

Ah. At least I didn’t have to say it twice. “…oh.”

“I’m a pretty good judge of character,” he said resolutely. “And I don’t just let anyone around my nephew or my sister. You’ve got nothing to worry about. You’re a good kid.”

I managed a smile, and it felt a little more real. “Thanks.”

It would take a long time for me to believe it, but…well. They’d all reassured me so far. It was…it was better than having to convince myself alone.

“Knock knock,” a voice said in the doorway, and I glanced up to see Angelica, Jacob, and a sleepy Jonah nodding off on Jacob’s shoulder. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m okay. It’s really nothing,” I assured them. I assumed a comparison would just freak them out, but compared to some of my other injuries, I could run a marathon and be fine.

Jacob smiled. “I’m glad. We wanted to…to say thank you again, Matthew. We’re absolutely indebted to you.”

“It’s really alright,” I said, a little uncomfortable with the sincerity in their eyes.

“No, don’t…don’t mitigate what you did today. You kept our son safe. Thank you so much, honey,” Angelica said from the doorway, tears in her eyes and a grateful smile on her face despite them. “Really.”

I could only nod and give her half a smile, unable to tell her that I didn’t deserve her thanks. Lion would get mad at me again, and I was far too tired to deal with that.

Jacob whispered something in Jonah’s ear, and the sleepy kid perked up quickly, wriggling out of his dad’s arms. “Jonah has a question for you,” he clarified as Jonah ran up to my bed, clambering up onto the comforter as I scooted over to give him room.

Jonah knelt on the bed beside me, and I sat cross-legged to face him. I was stiff as a board, terrified he’d burst into tears or look scared again or—or something like that. His parents were standing like hawks in the doorway, and Lion was standing behind me. I wasn’t sure if they were watching so closely because they didn’t trust me or were just wrung out from the day’s events.

Jonah fixed me with that stare of his, and I looked up and away after a second under the intense gaze. That’s why I missed the little finger poking my nose.

“ _Ow_ ,” I said in surprise, holding it as my eyes watered again. I heard Angelica chastise him, and received a quick apology, but he sounded more thoughtful than anything.

I blinked at him, still cupping my nose. I didn’t want to take any chances.

Jonah glanced at his parents, and back at me, and scooted forward. He leaned up and whispered into my ear, very quietly, “Are you a superhero?”

I faltered, totally unprepared for the question. “Um…I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

He narrowed his eyes, sitting back in front of me. “Mummy and Daddy and Uncle Danny said you saved me from a bad man.”

I glanced at his parents, who were hovering expectantly. They looked tired, and wrung out, but there were smiling, like they knew something I didn’t. I heard Lion chuckle.

“I guess so,” I said cautiously, slowly lowering my hand. I didn’t want him to poke it again, but I didn’t want to hold it there all night, either.

He folded his arms across his chest, looking pensive as he pondered my response. “So you _are_ a superhero.”

He continued before I could deter him, eyes shining. “You went like—like _whoosh_ , and _whapa!_ And then he was just on the ground! And I was really scared because it hurt when he grabbed me, and you sounded scary, but then Uncle Henry said that it was a bad man, so you had to sound scary. And even though he hurt you, you were still awesome. And—and then Uncle Henry said you were Alex, even though you said you were Matthew. And all superheroes have secret names. So you _have_ to be a superhero.”

I could see very clearly that he was convinced of this fact, and nothing I could say could change his mind of it. Or if I did, it would disappoint him, and that was the last thing I wanted after today. At least he wasn’t scared of me anymore.

I shrugged helplessly, smiling a little. “I guess. If you say so, it must be true, huh?”

Jonah grinned, wide and full, and said, “I knew it, I knew it! You were too awesome not to be!”

I had to laugh a bit, even though my nose hurt. “You’ve gotta keep it a secret, though. It’s my secret identity. I can’t have it getting out.” Well, that wasn’t a lie. “Can I count on you to do that?”

I held my pinky out expectantly, but he completely bypassed the gesture, instead hopping up onto his knees and wrapping his skinny arms around my neck.

Startled, it took me a second to hug him back, and I made sure to do so very, very carefully. I was still a little afraid of myself and my training after today, but Jonah didn’t seem to mind.

A strong, little voice said by my ear, “I’ll keep your secret, Uncle Matthew. Promise.”

I…didn’t know what to say to that.

I just closed my eyes and held the precious kid a little tighter, attributing the sudden rush of tears to my throbbing nose.

…

Lion sat down on the edge of my bed, and I sat with my hands in my lap. “Have they left?”

Lion nodded, rolling his shoulders. He looked tired. “Yeah, just now. They said to thank you again.”

I shrugged. They’d said so plenty of times.

There was a few seconds of silence before he continued. “I met my goal today. Somehow. Didn’t smoke more than five cigs.”

I smiled, genuinely pleased with the news. “Good. I’m glad. Especially with how stressful today was.”

He laughed a little. “Yeah, definitely.”

I shifted, leaning back against my headboard, letting my arms dangle over my knees. “Want to ask something?”

He glanced at the door, ajar, but Tiger and Bear were in the kitchen. I heard the distant clanking of cookware as they finished the dishes. “It’s kind of a big one. You can veto.”

“Okay,” I conceded, shifting a bit.

“Something really freaked you out today,” he said quietly, looking worried again. Why the hell would he be worried about me? He was the one whose abusive father had almost taken his nephew. “And I think it’s got more to it than what you said.”

I shifted, condemning Lion’s unusually perceptive nature. I could veto. I could. He’d respect my decision.

I sighed, glancing at the window. I still needed to clean it. “You’re going to think it’s stupid. _I_ think it’s stupid.”

Lion smirked. “Kid, after the day we’ve had, I’m not about to judge anything you say.”

I gave him an awkward smile. I supposed he was right.

“I just…I was worried…” I started, unsure of what words to use to accurately convey my fear. “I just…I was worried that when you…found out, that I’d been…you know. Trained to…to hurt people. I was worried you’d ask me to leave.”

I glanced away from him, tapping my knees nervously. “I know it’s stupid. I haven’t even given you rent yet. Which I totally plan to do, I promise. I just…it’s not…it’s not home, you know? But it’s the…the closest thing I have. I really…like it here. And I was…I was worried that you’d think I was…you know. Dangerous. And that you’d ask me to leave.”

I stared at the wallpaper, tracing hairline cracks in the display, still fidgeting nervously. It sounded childish and stupid and weak, and I didn’t want to hear Lion’s reaction. I knew, logically, that it wouldn’t be bad. He’d laugh it off, or something. I knew he probably wouldn’t ask me to leave. I just…the irrational fear was still there, and it was strong.

“Alex. Look at me.” After a second of hesitation, I did. He eyes were narrowed in both disbelief and staunch determination, and I couldn’t look away. “You put yourself between my abusive father and my nephew, _after_ he hurt you, and you were willing to do whatever it took to keep him safe. You opened yourself up to me when I _know_ you didn’t want to, and I’m grateful for that every day. And you’re helping me with one of the most challenging things I’ve ever done.

“You put yourself in front of Bear against a _terrorist_ , and you put his well-being above your own in a horrible situation. And you and Tiger have been getting to know each other, and—Tiger _hates_ it when people know he has depression. It took him several months to admit it to us, even after Elliot died. And I know you trusted him with a lot of things in the hospital, and he’s kept those things private. He didn’t tell Bear or me specifics, just that you had some stuff work through.”

Lion paused, leaning forward, his voice strong, and confident, and certain. “It’s perfectly fine if this isn’t your home yet. I know it’s too soon for that. But I promise you, one day…when you’re ready…it can be. You’re not getting rid of us anytime soon, and I swear on my life, if anyone tries to take you, they’re going to have one hell of a fight on their hands.”

I folded my hands on top of my knees to keep them from fidgeting any more, and to keep them from shaking. I felt my eyes burn, and swallowed thickly, looking away. “You can’t—you can’t say that. You don’t know everything. You don’t—I’ve done some really bad things, Lion, and I still have secrets. Really big secrets. You haven’t even known me for two months.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“Then…then how—”

“I told you,” he said, still honest and earnest and _kind_. “Relationships aren’t all about time. They’re about what you entrust. And I know you’re still opening up, but you’ve given us a lot, Jag. I’m sure a lot more than you ever planned to. We’ve given you a lot, too. That’s enough.”

I didn’t cry. It was close, but I didn’t. Instead I looked down, at the ceiling, the wall, anywhere, and finally back at him. And he was tired, and I was sure he wanted to go to bed and process the day he’d just had, but instead he was sitting here, comforting me.

“Thank you,” I said, and it was small, and broken, but real.

It wasn’t home. Not yet.

But one day…one day. Maybe.

Maybe it would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pals. Holy crap. I could’ve made this, like…three separate chapters. Happy birthday to all of you. Over 10k words!
> 
> Anyways! Heavy chapter, I know. I also know Alex may have been a little OOC, but you also have to understand that this kid has tons of repressed emotion and trauma, and a lot of that is explosive anger and fear that he keeps sealed pretty tight most of the time. If something like this happened, especially after Lion and Alex’s conversation last chapter, and as a result of his SCORPIA training…well. I know if I was Alex, I’d be pretty damn messed up. 
> 
> K-UNIT IS COMING! Not next chapter, but the one after that! That’s the one! The one I’ve gotten so, so, so many questions about! IT’S COMING! 
> 
> Also. Eh-heh. So I’ve just come to the realization that we’re almost 100,000 words in and…four of the main characters haven’t even shown up yet. This is…this is gonna be a long one, folks. Maybe 300-400k words. Like. LONG. I hope you’ll stick around :)
> 
> Thanks so, so much, and as always, please let me know what you thought!!! I love hearing from you!


	19. Chapter 19

Following Lion’s father’s arrival and subsequent departure, I was pleased to hear that Angelica had finally gotten a restraining order filed against him, effective immediately and indefinitely, and Lion had followed suit and had one in the works. He’d been right when he said it hadn’t hit him yet. The next few days were worrying.

Lion had looked like a ghost, and he’d acted like one, too. His pallor had been consistently bone-white, his skin blotchy with red patches of panic. We couldn’t touch him or say his name or sneak up on him without him flinching the slightest bit, then hiding it behind a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Tiger and Bear were obviously worried. Tiger confided in me that he hadn’t seen Lion like this since Elliot had died, and that worried me, too. Bear was more subdued, taking extra care not to be too loud, or startling, while he was around.

Lion never came to me at night to ask questions anymore, so I assumed he’d been smoking well above his limit. I couldn’t blame him. I could smell it on him whenever he was around. I wondered if Bear and Tiger would pick up on it.

I was all too familiar with the type of fear Lion was feeling, so after a couple days of talking myself up to it, I acted.

“Take a walk with me,” I suggested after dinner a few nights after the fiasco. Lion and I were in the kitchen doing dishes. Tiger was taking the rubbish to the street by the flat building, and Bear was in the bathroom.

Lion glanced at me, looking a little better, but still much paler than his normal complexion. “I don’t know if I’m up for it tonight, Jag. Feeling kind of tired.”

“It’ll make you feel better. Promise,” I insisted, taking the dishrag from his hand and setting it on the counter, fixing him with a look. “Seriously.”

He sighed, clearly too tired to argue, and nodded.

Tiger gave us a questioning look as we left, but I shook my head slightly, telling him not to ask. He didn’t.

We walked in silence for a long time. I led the way. I’d familiarized myself with a map of the area when I’d first moved in, just in case, so I knew the Cookham area well enough to wander around. Lion didn’t ask where we were going, but I could see his tense shoulders and taut muscles, his movements jerky, like a puppet on broken strings.

“We’re almost there,” I assured quietly. The streets were dark and mostly deserted, but we passed the occasional couple or stumbling drunk. In those instances, Lion’s shoulders snapped back so hard I thought he’d break a bone, but he never stopped walking or slowed down. Never even looked in their direction.

I smiled to myself. A leader to the end.

When we finally got to Cookham Bridge, I leaned over the edge with my chin resting on my crossed forearms, and closed my eyes and listened to the quiet waters lulling beneath us, streetlights and the moonlight reflecting off the glassy surface.

Eventually, Lion came to stand next to me, and I felt him relax the slightest bit. “Did you bring me out here to listen to nature and become one with the wind?”

I smiled a little, but didn’t open my eyes. Sarcasm was a step in the right direction. “No. Just listen for a minute. It always calms me down.”

He did, and I felt him relax a little more the longer we stayed there. After a few moments, he let out a settling breath, finally leaning over the railing, like I was.

“I’ve always really liked mythology and symbolism,” I started, opening my eyes to look out over the water, listening to the water scraping gently against the banks. “Ian—my uncle—he said it was a silly thing to like. Just stories made up by people who didn’t know what was going on. But I’ve always found it rather interesting.”

Even though Lion wouldn’t look at me, I knew he was listening. “I spent a long time alone. When I…when I had a really, really bad day, and there was no one there to talk me out of a flashback or a nightmare or a panic attack, I had a system. I had to.”

I took a deep breath, face pinching in phantom pain as I remembered the agonizing throb of loneliness from those hellish months. “I always knew where the nearest bridge was. Always. It made me feel better. You know what bridges symbolize?”

Lion shook his head, now eyeing me with distinct worry in his eyes. I knew how it sounded, and I wasn’t going to correct him. I’d more than once thought of using the bridges for darker reasons, but that wasn’t the point today.

“They symbolize pathways. To heaven, mostly,” I said, picking at the rusted iron on the railing. I bit my nails often enough to make it difficult, but the distraction was nice. “Also to hell. But they’re also passages that can symbolize rebirth, or evolution. Leaving your old self on the other side and crossing to become better, that kind of thing.”

I shrugged, the familiar explanations rolling off my tongue. I’d never really shared the thoughts with anyone before, but Lion needed something, and this would help. It helped me.

“So whenever I have a really bad day, I come to a bridge,” I said thoughtfully. “And I remind myself that the symbolism is mostly bullshit.”

Lion snorted in surprise, obviously not expecting the abrasive comment, and I smirked a little. “It is. Seriously.”

“What makes you say that?” He asked, eyebrow raised, revealing a hint of the easy smile I hadn’t see in a few days.

“For all the heroes in the stories, the bridge just…is. It’s already been built for them, and all they have to do is cross it. But it’s bullshit. Nobody’s going to build you a bridge to paradise,” I said decidedly, looking out over the water again. “I’ve never been one for religion, but that’s not what I mean. No human being is ever going to be able to give you a single path to a painless future. Maybe after you die, sure, but not during life. Even with all you’ve done for me, you’ve given me options, but you’ll never be able to erase my past or completely guarantee my future.”

Lion was looking thoughtful now, and followed my gaze out to the water. “Well, now I feel hopeless.”

I snorted. “No, you’re missing my point. I come here to remind myself that I’m the only one who can build a bridge like that. Nobody can do it for me, but at the same time, nobody can stop me from doing it.”

I looked at him, hoping I was coming across more lucid than I felt. I felt like an old nutjob, but at least Lion was playing along. “It may seem stupid. Sometimes I think it’s stupid, but it helps. Your father…he hurt you in the past, and there’s nothing to say you’ll never see him again. But…but he doesn’t have to stop you from building your bridge. Becoming who you want to be. He can only stop you if you let him.”

Lion looked at me for a long moment, and uncomfortable as it was, I held his gaze. The wind swept through my hair, and I blinked, brushing it back and out of my eyes and turning back to the water. “Just a thought. It helps me on bad days. To remind myself that while people from my past are…definitely going to catch up with me at some point, I have options. Even if they suck.”

I’d edited it a bit for Lion’s sake. I often went to bridges to remind myself that I was making the choice not to jump. That I was making the choice to live, despite everything. Then my mind would turn to the symbolism, and I’d remind myself that I still had a future, however bleak. However hopeless and full of uncertainty.

However, the censored version seemed to work well enough, because Lion didn’t say anything for several long moments. It was enough silence that I contemplated sitting down to let him sort his thoughts out. Before I could, he fished around in his pocket, and took out a lighter.

He clicked it three times before the spark finally caught, his face awash in the soft glow. “This was my dad’s,” he said quietly, his voice tight with painful memories.

I was surprised by the confession. I didn’t think he’d want anything of his dad’s with him.

“I carry it because I think I…I think I still blame myself for letting it happen for so long,” he said. His eyes were narrowed in thought. “I blamed myself for letting him hurt Angie when I wasn’t around, I blamed myself for letting him hurt me instead of fighting back, even though I knew it wouldn’t do anything. I blamed myself for letting our mom leave. I blamed myself for a lot of things, and I carried this to remind myself of it.”

He snapped it shut, and let it rest loosely in his fingers. He looked at me, looked at the bridge, and looked at the water. With a brief second of hesitation that quickly melted into resolve, he wound up his arm, and chucked the lighter into the river.

A distant, tiny splash broke the quiet night, and shattered the tension in Lion’s shoulders. In that moment, I saw the friend I hadn’t seen in a few days. The leader I desperately wanted to be half of, in time.

“I’m tired of blaming myself for that piece of shit’s mistakes.”

I smiled, patting his shoulder. “Good.”

Like everything in the past few months, it didn’t erase the past, and it didn’t secure the future, but it was enough.

…

“Where did you put the keys?” Lion yelled, looking utterly exasperated as he waited by the door, duffle bag in hand.

“I swear, they were in my _bloody_ room, and now they’re just gone,” Tiger growled, tearing the flat apart as I watched from the recliner sipping coffee, somewhat amused.

“Okay, well, you’d better find them fast, or I’m going to miss my plane,” Lion said, glancing pointedly at his watch. “Seriously, we don’t have time to wait on a locksmith. Bear, would you get a move on?”

Bear stumbled out of his room, laden with luggage, and scowled. “I’m doing my best. Blame my dad. He turned me into a kleptomaniac.”

I chuckled, supposing I should get up and help look for the keys before Tiger really got mad. “Where did you go when you first came in with them?”

Tiger stilled, thinking. “The fridge. But I wouldn’t have left them in the bloody icebox.”

Nevertheless, I went to investigate, listening to the others bicker in the foyer. I opened the fridge and the icebox, unsurprised to find them empty of keys, then searched around the cluttered counters. Despite Tiger’s serious nature, he was surprisingly absent-minded. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d set them down here and forgot about it.

“I told you they’re not in the icebox,” Tiger griped from the doorway, scowling.

“You’re right,” I conceded, pushing aside the toaster, then the blender, and spotting my prize. I didn’t even want to know how they’d ended up back there. I held them up, watching Tiger’s eyes widen. I smirked. “You’re welcome.”

Tiger sighed, snatching the keys. “Bloody comedian,” he muttered.

“Have a safe trip,” I said from the foyer, watching the three of them heft their bags over their shoulders. It felt very odd to remain in their home alone, especially after everything, but they’d assured me it wasn’t a problem. My heart lightened at the knowledge that they trusted me that much—with their things, their home. I didn’t honestly know if I’d be able to do the same with them, but…the gesture was incredible, anyways.

My heart ached, though, when I thought of them going away, where I wasn’t. It was stupid and childish and absolutely bloody weird, but…I wanted them here, where I was here if something happened. After Lion’s father…it made me realize that I really, really needed to protect them.

It was irrational. Completely and utterly. They could protect themselves just fine, perhaps better than I could protect them. But the knowledge that I wouldn’t have the opportunity was scarily unsettling.

Still, I smiled, happy that they were getting to see their families. Bear and Tiger had conveniently lined up their visit with Lion’s absence to America for Thanksgiving, to make things easier, and while I was nervous, I’d enjoy having a couple days to settle down and figure things out.

“Will do. Don’t get into any fights, alright?” Bear said with a smile.

“And please don’t go looking for trouble,” Lion added, his face exasperated, with a hint of a knowing smile.

“And _don’t_ wreck the place,” Tiger said with a heatless glare, earning a smirk from me. “Seriously. Not a scratch. On anything.”

I laughed, their concern both stifling and comforting. “What do you take me for? It’s not like I’m going to throw a party or join a gang. Go.”

Tiger grumbled an affirmative, tousling my hair somewhat aggressively to avoid the notion that he might actually care enough to say goodbye, and leaving. I smiled, appreciative of the gesture, nonetheless. Bear waved with a smile and a promise to bring souvenirs, then followed Tiger out the door.

Lion hung back. “You sure you’ll be alright?”

I nodded, smiling in an effort to reassure him. “I’ll be okay. Lissa says I’m doing fine, and I’m not very tired anymore. I’ll take naps when I need to, but I doubt I’ll be going out much.”

Lion’s eyes were still narrowed in shrouded concern, but he sighed, finally smiling. “Yeah, alright. Call if you need anything.” He hesitated. “If…if something happens, if somebody sees you, if somebody comes after you, you do what you need to do to stay safe, but then you call me, and Bear and Tiger. I’ll come back and we’ll handle it. Okay?”

I hesitated for a brief second, then nodded. “Okay.”

He followed Tiger’s lead and tousled my hair with a smile, then left.

They did that a lot. I thought it might have been the only sign of affection they could show and still maintain their masculinity. It was kind of funny to me, honestly.

I sighed as the door clicked shut, wondering what I’d do to fill the next week.

I sat down in the recliner to finish my coffee, absently watching the news as I considered the progress I’d made. The progress _we’d_ made.

To be quite honest, I was stunned that I’d been able to disclose so much. It had been gradual, and difficult, but…good.

I’d told them…I’d told them about _SCORPIA_. Not the name—that would destroy everything I’d built, and everything I had with them—but about what I’d been taught to do. What I could do. And they’d still accepted me, despite it all, and that was…that was so far outside the realm of possibility of what I’d expected out of the SAS that I still wasn’t sure it had actually happened.

I was glad that I’d been able to help Lion, and glad that I’d been able to let down my walls with him, too. He’d asked me a question every night since then, but they were mostly small things—my favorite music, sports teams I liked…innocuous pieces of information that painted a better picture of me without revealing too much.

Bear and Tiger were happy with Lion’s change, and it showed in their actions and mannerisms. Bear said he wanted to take me to the youth center when he got back from his trip, since I was so good with Jonah. I faltered, disagreeing a little with the statement, but he insisted. I was somewhat excited to hang out with Bear, anyways. His energy was contagious.

Tiger showed me a little place round the corner that imported coffee from several different countries. He said he knew I was obsessed with it, so I could bloody well stop stealing his. I’d smiled. The gesture was nice, and we’d gotten coffee there on a few occasions when Lion and Bear were out, or busy. The talks had evolved from awkward and stuttered to…well, nice. Relaxing. I enjoyed getting to know Tiger more.

He’d told me more about himself. I supposed he wasn’t as comfortable with opening up as Bear or Lion, and it showed; maybe that’s why we understood each other. We knew how difficult it was to come right out and say the things we wanted buried.

“There was this one time,” he’d begun last week, on our third trip there, “Ell and I were in uni. I dunno what happened to lead to that point, or what happened after, but all I remember was…was Elli0t yelling at some guy in the bar. Apparently they’d placed a bet, and Ell insisted that he’d been cheated out of fifty quid. And you have to understand, he had a stupidly simple sense of right and wrong. We made fun of it for him all the time.

“So Ell’s infuriated, obviously, and well past plastered. And he was bloody smart, so he started spitting statistics about bar fights and all that. I went up, asked what the problem was, and Ell gets all spun out again, telling me the bet’s rigged. And keep in mind, the guy’s bloody huge. Imagine Lion a little bigger, and a lot meaner looking. And I’m buzzed, but I’m sober enough to know we don’t stand a chance.”

I’d laughed then, and sipped my Moroccan coffee, grinning as he continued with a far-off look and a reflective smile. “So I’m trying to talk him down, right? But he’s ready to go full Captain America on this guy. I was sure he was gonna get us thrown in jail for the night. I turn to the big guy, try to explain that Ell’s just plastered, and before I can do anything, he shoves me back into the counter. I’m buzzed enough that it takes a second to get back on my feet, and Elliot’s gone ballistic now. He’s wrestling with the guy like a postal maniac, and some guys jumped in to break it up, but they were latched on like they were fused together.

“Eventually the guy gets Elliot pinned, and I shove him off, and then _I’m_ pinned, and I’m thinking…well, I’m thinking the big guy’s gonna tear me a new one. And suddenly, Ell has literally grabbed a beer bottle out of some poor bloke’s hand and smashes it over the guy’s head. So he falls on top of me, and Ell’s trying to roll him off, but he’s barely in control enough to stand, and he’s barely moving him at all. At least that’s what I thought he was doing.”

Tiger had started laughing under his breath, trying not to disrupt the other patrons, and even though I didn’t think the story was particularly funny, I knew it must have been a riot in the moment. I’d laughed with him. “And the constables show up and kick everybody out, and as soon as the dude’s off of me, we’re gone. I mean, I dragged Ell through hell and high water across town. When we finally stopped, he told me he hadn’t actually been trying to get him off me. He’d been picking his pocket to get his fifty quid.”

I’d laughed genuinely, then, and Tiger had laughed with me. He told me a lot of stories. I think it might have been easier to get to know me that way. He didn’t do feelings, that much was obvious, but I had a feeling memories were a lot easier to share.

I was grateful for it.

The same Tiger from the beginning, who I’d punched in the face after he’d passively accused me of getting my family killed.

Bear, who I’d lied to and snapped at, and who I’d actually been jealous of, for his constant easy happiness and energy.

Lion, who I’d passively hated for his leadership and kindness and integrity and all the things I didn’t have living a lie.

I smiled, and finished my coffee, and put the mug in the sink.

The word family was still scary. Still…still dangerous. Very. But it was…not too outlandish, now.

Family. Home. They were words I’d think about more, and I was ready for the change.

…

I cleaned a lot, at first. I loved being outside, but a big part of me was still paranoid about being watched and tailed, so I generally stuck to inside. I mopped and dusted and did everything imaginable, and then I did it all again the second day just to maintain my sanity.

On the fourth day, I finally got tired of infomercials and news broadcasts and went to the café and drank coffee in the chilly air, content with watching the people meander the busy street. That killed a few hours before I thought I looked more like a stalker, and I took a walk.

I went across Cookham Bridge, wondering if the lighter had been swept down by the current, or was stuck just a few dozen meters away among the rocks. I hoped it had been smashed to pieces.

I got tired after a couple miles and doubled back, resting on a bench on the busy street before continuing on, buying a couple things at the grocery. It would probably last me until they got back.

The fifth day, I finally worked up the nerve to go to the cemetery.

I dressed for the occasion, in long black trousers and a dark, baggie hoodie. I put on sunglasses and kept my hood up. It was somewhat different from how I dressed as myself or Matthew, and with my dark hair and the sunglasses, I was fairly sure no one would recognize me.

I’d agonized a lot over my going to the cemetery. I’d run the pros and cons and done the risk analysis six times, but…honestly, I didn’t think it would be that big of a risk. I’d heard multiple people complain on multiple occasions that MI6 was underfunded, and I highly doubt they had a spare agent, even a new recruit or a paper pusher, to sit watch on a cemetery that I may or may not visit. And even if they had, I’d been missing from their surveillance for eight months. They definitely wouldn’t have kept anyone around that long.

SCORPIA might, but…once upon a time. I’d reduced their organization from tapestries to frayed threads—they were nothing compared to their old status. I doubted that had any extra agents to spare, either.

I took the metro into the city and caught a Tube to the cemetery just outside Chelsea, constantly adjusting my shades and fidgeting, hiding my face in the shadows when I could. It was cloudy, and I was sure everyone who saw me in my hood and sunglasses thought I was mental, but it made me feel better.

I stopped by a flower shop and used some of my emergency money to buy some flowers. I wasn’t really sure what kind to get—Jack had always been more into flowers, but she never shared anything about them. The florist recommended peonies. He said they represented healing.

I bought three and continued on, walking briskly down the road.

It had been a long time since I’d visited them. Not that anyone was around to be angry with me for it, but…I wondered if they were somewhere watching over me. Perhaps annoyed that I hadn’t been by for a bit. I wondered if they knew my reasoning.

I walked the entire cemetery first, looking for anything that was out of place, or anyone who seemed suspicious. It was large, and it took a while, but better safe than sorry. There were a couple families visiting, a couple solitary men and women ambling around the graves, but no one who looked like they had no purpose but to watch.

Nervously, taking a shaky breath, I approached my family’s graves.

Mum and Dad had a joined headstone, and were buried side by side. Ian was buried to Dad’s left, with a separate headstone. They were all chiseled metal plaques laden in shining granite, dirt crusting the edges, perhaps from a heavy rain that had washed away the surrounding soil. There were no flowers, but the grass was vibrant green, and freshly trimmed.

“Hi, Mum, Dad,” I said quietly, crouching down. “Hi, Ian.”

I hovered for a moment, then put the peonies on each grave, sitting down cross-legged. I wondered if this was what people did. Ian never took me to visit Mum and Dad much. Said it was impractical. Jack didn’t take me to visit Ian much, because when I was home, the last thing I wanted to think about was death and graveyards, after my missions.

I’d never…talked to them before, like this. I supposed I could try it. I’d seen others do it.

“I hope you’re…doing well.”

_Nice, Alex_ , I thought to myself. _They’re dead, how well can they be doing?_

I scrubbed a hand through my hair and replaced the hood, frustrated. “Well, I…hope you’re happy, wherever you are. Together.”

I waited, as if expecting a response. God, this was difficult.

“I met some people,” I said finally, aching to fill the silence. I mostly thought of speaking to Ian, since I didn’t know how Mum and Dad would feel about any of it. Ian would tell me to be careful, but…I hoped he’d be happy for me, too. “They’re…really good people. People I…don’t deserve, after everything.”

I fidgeted, but kept going, smiling slightly. “Ian, I think you and Tiger would be at each other’s throats. You’d find something to disagree about even if there wasn’t anything. You’d like Bear. He’s really cool, and he’d probably be able to make you laugh. That was always tricky with new people, getting you to laugh. It took Tom ages.

“You wouldn’t like Lion at first. You’d say he was a pushover. But once you got to know him…I think the two of you would’ve been really good friends. Honestly.”

I sniffed, running a hand under my nose. It was getting cold. “They’re letting me stay with them. Despite everything I’ve told them. I can’t tell if they’re too nice or just mental. But…well, I’m happy.”

I blinked at the admission, realizing that…it was true.

I was _happy_.

I smiled a little, laughing at myself. “I think I am. I think I’m really happy, finally.”

That was another word I’d continue to think more about.

Happiness.

…

Apparently happiness, however, was hard to come by, because the universe seemed quite intent on denying me any shred of it.

At the end of the week, on the day they were expected to return, I finally got around to cleaning my window. It was painted shut, unfortunately, so I used a penknife to cut through the layers of paint and shimmy it open, sitting on the ledge with my feet hooked securely under the chair I’d drug over to clean the outside as best I could.

After that, I ate, and watched some football. The preliminary matches were still going on, but it was nice to see how the season would shape up. I missed a lot of the past few years’ games because of my absences.

Lion called the house phone to let me know that they’d all met up at the airport and were on their way back. I assured them that the flat was still intact, despite Tiger’s incredulity. I finished my tea and watched a documentary for a few minutes, then remembered I’d forgotten to get the mail the previous day.

I went to the letter box, and that was when things really started going to hell.

I grabbed the stack of mail, absently leafing through it as I ascended the steps to the third-floor apartment. It was bills, mainly, and a couple magazine subscriptions. I saw an envelope addressed to Bear from the youth center he worked at.

I got to the last piece of mail, and my heart shuddered to a stop.

It was for me.

There was no return address, or logo. Just a cream-colored envelope with my name and the address in delicate, elegant script.

It was for me.

With stilted, puppeted steps, I got into the flat and locked the door. I put the rest of the mail on the table and sat down in one of the wooden chairs, tearing open the envelope with trembling fingers, trying very hard to control the spots of panic dancing in my vision.

It was a lone white sheet of paper, with a single line of text.

The others got back a few moments later.

“We’re back,” Tiger shouted from the door, and I heard the sounds of muted chatter and heavy bags thunking against the floor, the door shutting behind them. “Jag? You here? Holy shit, this place is clean.”

I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t. I could only stare at the wrinkling paper in my shuddering hands and try to control the panic racing through me.

“Jaguar?” Tiger asked again, stopping in the kitchen door. “You didn’t answer.”

“Jag?” Bear said, and his voice changed the moment he saw my face. “Jag? Alex, what’s happened?”

I took a stuttered breath, my heart aching. I thought I was going into cardiac arrest. That’s what it felt like.

I saw Lion come up beside me, carefully. “What’s the matter, kid?”

Hesitantly, I unflexed my fingers, letting the paper fall to the table. “It was addressed to me. Here. In the letter box.”

They all knew what that meant.

Someone knew I was here, and who I was.

_Home. Family. Happiness_.

I should’ve known those were impossible fantasies made for children to ignore the monsters. I should’ve known those things would never be for Alex Rider.

Lion read the letter and cursed quietly, handing it to Tiger and Bear, who reacted similarly.

I didn’t need to read it again. I knew what it said.

_You’re not as good at hiding as you think_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hehe. He. Oh, I’m evil. Man, I love it.
> 
> Hope you liked it! I’m glad we got to slow down and take a look at how Alex is reacting to everything, and then I…dropped that bombshell. Heh. Coolio.
> 
> So. The reason I’m writing like a madwoman is because my job starts back in two weeks, and I’ll be very busy with that until school starts, when I will be very very busy. Updates will not be frequent. And it makes me sad. So I’m writing literally all I can in the two weeks of freedom I have left. I thought I’d warn you :) sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear; I super wish I could write fanfiction nonstop all the time, but unfortunately I need money and an education :’)
> 
> As promised, next chapter is K-Unit! And…we’ll see how Alex reacts to the letter ;)
> 
> Love you guys! Drop a review if you want!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ:
> 
> If you’re identifying with anything Alex has been saying or feeling, if you feel lonely or depressed or tired all the time with no enjoyment from your daily life, I absolutely urge you to seek help or support if you haven’t already. You are valued, and you are enough, no matter your situation. This is the phone number for the National Suicide Prevention Hotline:
> 
> 1-800-273-8255
> 
> This is the Depression Hotline:
> 
> 630-482-9696
> 
> There are other numbers for Domestic and Sexual Abuse, Eating Disorders, or LGBTQ+ issues, and several other numbers for your particular issue. These are American numbers, but I’m sure other countries have similar resources. Your trauma is valid, and your deserve support, no matter your situation or circumstances.
> 
> Just a warning. I’d much rather you not read if this will trigger any uncomfortable thoughts. Stay safe and well :)  
> Also warnings for a naughty word, so again, the 11 and 12 year olds who think they’re adults and can lie about their age, make better choices, and don’t repeat it. 
> 
> Also. I’m…so sorry. But I lied. K-Unit is NEXT chapter. And I’m so sorry because I knew you were so excited and I really did plan to have them this chapter but then…then THIS thing happened and it was very different from what I’d planned and it got really deep and dark and I was like “oh shit um this is a lot for this chapter” and I had to end it there…and I apologize I really really do but I hope you liked it anyway? And I’ll try to get the next one done really soon. Sorry. Sorry. Bye. Enjoy, and have tissues on hand.

I tried to leave.

It didn’t go over well.

“Jag, you can’t just—just go,” Bear said from the doorway, looking clueless as I shoved things into my bag, feeling dizzy and weak and terrified. Tiger stood beside him, eyes pinched in concern, and Lion was standing beside me helplessly, looking for somewhere to jump in, I supposed.

I ignored him, zipping up my bag and fumbling with my jacket.

“Alex, _stop_ ,” Lion said, and it was the voice that said he _wasn’t_ messing around. When I didn’t acknowledge him, he stepped forward, grabbing my wrists to physically stop me from moving any further. It was a testament to how flustered I was that he was able to. “Calm down. Listen to us. Alright?”

“I can’t stay,” I said shakily, grimacing when Lion didn’t let go. I could’ve tried to flip him, or broken from the hold, but I didn’t want to hurt him. “Let me go, Lion.”

“ _No_ ,” he said emphatically, eyes blazing with resolved worry and frustration. “Not until you agree to sit down and _think_. We’re going to talk about this, we’re going to help you, but you can’t just go AWOL.”

“I _have_ to!” I yelled, wrenching my wrists from his hands and stumbling back, catching myself on the nightstand. The tenuous string that was my sanity and my ability to rationally _think_ was stretched dangerously thin, and I wanted nothing more than to shut everything down. “I have to go, _quickly_. You don’t—you don’t understand. You don’t know what’ll—what’ll happen—”

“Then explain it to us,” Tiger said, slipping into the room by Bear, arms crossed. “Tell us what’s going on, so we can know how to help.”

“You _can’t help_!” I yelled, feeling the thread stretch and fray. “This isn’t something you can just fix because you want to! They’re _dangerous_. It’s not like—like they’ll learn you’re from the SAS and cut their losses. If it’s—if it’s who I think it is, they’ll _kill_ you. They’ll shoot you on the street, or kill you in your sleep, and they won’t _care_. They don’t—they don’t care who gets hurt. If they think it’ll benefit them, they’ll go after Jonah, or Angelica, or—or your parents or Bear’s dad. They have people _everywhere_. It’s not like I made some small-time crook mad and he’s coming after me with a crowbar. They’re _ruthless_ and cruel and—and…”

Voicing the worries that had plagued me for weeks ended up being too much, and I stumbled back into the wall, my hands fisted in my hair as I shut my eyes. I gasped, trying very hard not to sob.

I didn’t—I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to start over again. I didn’t want to be alone again. I’d finally—I’d finally found _something_ , something worth a damn, and I didn’t want to give it up, but I didn’t want them to get hurt—

I felt a panic attack building steadily, and I couldn’t breathe, and I felt like my chest was being crushed. I felt my fingertips and toes buzz with adrenaline that had no outlet, my fight or flight response shouting to be heard.

“Calm down,” Lion said, his voice softer. He put his hands on my shoulders and I flinched, but I didn’t push him away. “Calm down. You’re panicking. You can’t think like this, okay? Just…just sit down.”

He took my elbows and gently sat me on the bed where I folded, gasping. I felt like I was sucking air through a narrow straw, and it wasn’t nearly enough to satiate my need for air.

They knew where I was. They knew who I was with. They knew I was _here_.

They could come at any moment. They could be right outside the door.

They’d come, and hurt them, and take me, and hurt me, and—and—

“Shit, he’s not coming out of it,” I heard Lion say as I continued to wheeze, feeling hot tears drip off my nose and down my cheeks as I stared at the carpet and Lion’s knees. “Bear, do you have—something, I…where’s his Xanax?”

“Let me try something first,” Bear said, and then he was replacing Lion kneeling in front of me. “Listen. Listen.”

I felt his hand come to grip the back of my neck, and suddenly, my brain stopped computing everything, because he was wrapping his other arm around me and my forehead was on his shoulder. I was staring at his chest now instead of the floor, and I was trembling against him.

“I need you to slow down,” Bear said quietly, his voice even and low. “I need you to take a deep breath. Feel how I’m doing it?” He took a breath, and it was exaggeratedly slow, and deep. “Just like that. Do it with me.”

I felt useless. I felt young and weak. I felt helpless. He wasn’t supposed to have to calm me down. I was supposed to be used to the running, the hiding, the lying. The picking up everything I needed and dropping everything else and disappearing. I was supposed to be good at it now.

I was supposed to be nineteen years old and self-sufficient and self-reliant and strong. I was supposed to be able to take on the world, because that’s how I wanted to be. I wanted to be able to do it alone so I wouldn’t have to rely on others that I knew I couldn’t hold on to.

And now I was crying into the shoulder of my SAS unitmate, sixteen and very, very afraid. Falling apart and crumbling. They must’ve thought I was an absolute coward. That I was just a weakling. Just a boy in over his head and in too deep to ever get out.

I tried to do as he asked, but it was another shallow, trembling gasp, and it just as quickly turned into a sob.

I didn’t want to cry, I didn’t want to be weak, I didn’t want to _leave_.

“Easy, easy,” Bear said quickly, hand tightening on the back of my neck in comfort. “Try again. It’s okay. Just try again.”

I gasped again, but it was deeper.

“There you go,” he said gently. “Again.”

He was handling me with kiddie gloves. Like a child, and I didn’t want to be treated like fractured glass. I didn’t want to be treated like the broken kids he talked about from the youth center. I didn’t want to be just another stupid kid crumbling under the weight of things that I should be able to handle by now.

But I couldn’t even breathe, and I was so, so scared.

So I listened, and did it again.

“There you go,” Bear said. “There you go. You’re alright. We’re fine. Everything’s going to be fine.”

I bristled at the words. Maybe he felt it, because he tightened his hold on me.

But he didn’t say anything to take it back.

“I can’t—I c-can’t let them…them hurt you,” I admitted, too tired and too scared to censor my words. “I can’t—I finally have _something_ and they t-took everything else and I can’t…”

“Alright,” Bear conceded. “Alright.”

But it wasn’t alright, and I didn’t know if it would ever be alright.

…

Bear handed me a mug of coffee and sat beside me on the couch in the living room. Two sugars, no cream. I took a sip. It was good. Tasted like it had some whiskey in it, though.

“Are you calmer?” Tiger asked from one of the armchairs.

“Do I _look_ calmer?” I asked tonelessly. What a stupid question.

Tiger’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t do that. We’re trying to help.”

I stayed quiet.

Lion held the letter in his hands. He’d read it a couple more times, even though he must’ve remembered what it said by now. He said he forgot things easily. Perhaps it was that.   
“Who sent it?”

I shrugged, staring sightlessly at the glass table. “I dunno. It…I dunno for sure.”

I saw Tiger’s eyes darken out of the corner of my eye, but Bear cut in before he could. “Who do you _think_ sent it?”

I shifted, taking another sip of coffee. “I told you…people were after me.” I blinked slowly, my eyes still burning and heavy. “I…it’s two groups, really. They have different reasons.” One to use, one to kill, and both to hurt. “I think it’s…one of them.”

It was quiet for a long minute, and I took another sip. In a brief spurt of childish desire, I wanted to tug the threadbare blanket from the back of the couch and hold it around my shoulders. I wanted the comfort. But I’d been too weak today to even keep from crying, and I couldn’t let myself sink any lower.

“If you want us to help, you’re going to have to be a little more honest,” Lion said pointedly, trying to be gentle, but persistent, nonetheless. “I know you’re not ready, but…I don’t think they’re going to wait for you to be.”

I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood as tears flooded my eyes. I blinked them back, and swallowed thickly, and said, “I don’t…if you know, you’ll kick me out. The end is the same. I don’t want to leave with you hating me.”

“We won’t hate you,” Bear said immediately, sounding affronted. “Give us some more credit than that.”

“Why?” I asked, blinking slowly again. My eyes burned anew. “S’not like it’ll matter later. You knowing won’t stop them. You knowing won’t change anything.”

Tiger let out a frustrated breath, but remained silent.

“Us knowing will be us knowing what to do if someone comes calling,” Lion said. He sounded upset. Not sad. Maybe a little angry. Good, maybe he wouldn’t make me stay. I wanted to, but not at the risk of their lives.

“You can’t protect me.”

Lion pinched the bridge of his nose. Bear shifted next to me.

I took a breath. Perhaps this was better. Perhaps if they knew, they’d let me leave. Maybe this was the push I needed to finally end it. I’d contemplated it before, on those bridges, but…I’d always managed to hold on to a delicate, frightening sliver of hope. I thought the future had given me a chance with this. This flat, this place, these people.

Perhaps it was fate giving me a glimpse of happiness before making me realize it would be better to end it all anyways, because it was a pretty illusion.

If they reacted like I thought they would, if they got angry and yelled and asked me to leave…I’d know. I’d know. And I’d go to Cookham Bridge, and I’d end it.

“They’re the same ones who…who trained me how to hurt people,” I said slowly, working up to it. I couldn’t just…say it. I couldn’t make myself do that. But maybe I could ease into it. Maybe it would be easier to say. “I…I betrayed them, and they’re the ones who…who shot me.”

It was quiet for a few seconds. My hands were warm around the coffee mug, but the rest of me was cold in frigid anticipation.

“And now they’re trying to finish the job?” Tiger asked, his voice low.

“I suppose,” I said quietly. “I…I managed to destroy most of the organization. But…it wasn’t enough, I suppose.”

It was quiet again.

“We need a name, kid,” Lion said softly.

I closed my eyes, and put my head down, and felt shame seep into the darkest recesses of my mind.

The thin thread of my sanity was on the verge of being severed, but I said it anyways.

“SCORPIA.”

The word tasted like ash and blood. The three syllables were heavy and bitter and small. It cut through the quiet air like a knife through thin paper.

It hurt to listen to the silence, so I took a sip of coffee.

It was still silent.

“The…” Bear’s voice was choked on shock. “The terrorist organization?”

I nodded.

“How—” Tiger’s voice was rough, and I could hear him trying to contain his anger, but it wasn’t enough. I flinched, waiting for the outburst. I’d know. I’d know soon. “How the _bloody hell_ did you get mixed up with them? No, wait—you…you _went_ to them?”

I shrank under his words, grasping the mug so tightly I was worried it would break. “Yes.”

“What the actual ­ _fuck_ —” Tiger stood, in a fluid rush of abrupt rage, and paced like—well, like an angry tiger. “What—how could you be so _stupid_?”

“Tiger,” Bear said quietly, trying to calm his friend, but it was too late.

“No, Henry, don’t—don’t defend him. What the hell’s wrong with you? Why did you—how could you _possibly_ think they could help you?”

I took a shaky breath, staring at the floor under my feet and the mug in my hands, my eyes blurring with tears that I tried to keep locked in. One plunked pathetically into my coffee. I closed my eyes.

“I told you—they…I was lied to—”

“Oh, and that makes it better,” Tiger said, flinging a hand out in an abortive gesture of sarcastic contempt. “I don’t—I don’t even know what to say to you. _Why_? Why did you think they could help you? What—”

“Tiger,” Lion said. I flinched. His voice was hard. “That’s enough.”

I looked up through blurred eyes and looked at his face, and a little part of me broke, because he looked so disappointed.

And Tiger was angry.

And Bear was silent.

“Are you going to let me leave now?” Are you going to _make_ me leave now?

“Do you want to?” Lion asked. His voice was carefully neutral. “I’m not asking if you think you need to. Do you _want_ to.”

Hesitantly, hating myself, I shook my head.

Despite the disappointment, the anger, the silence, this was still the only place in the world I wanted to be, and I hated myself for it.

“Then no,” he said with a heavy breath. It could have been disappointment. It could have been relief. I couldn’t tell. “No, you’re staying right here.”

I ignored the way my shoulders fell even as my heart clenched.

I was signing their death warrants.

I couldn’t stay.

“Can you…give us a minute?” Lion asked quietly, sounding unsure. It felt like a sign. It felt like the perfect opportunity for escape just after I’d decided to do so, and my heart twisted at the morbid coincidence. “We’re not deciding anything without you. Just…you look spent. I want you to rest. And I want to give Tiger a minute to calm down,” he said pointedly.

Tiger let out sardonic snort, shaking his head as he stared out the window, his face scrunched in anger.

I glanced at him, and he still looked disappointed, but he looked worried, too. I glanced at Bear, who was staring resolutely at the table with a far-off stare, his hands fidgeting in front of him.

_Thank you for everything you’ve done for me._

_Thank you for taking care of me._

_Thank you for trying to help me._

Words of gratitude and goodbyes bounced inside my head like violent pinballs, writhing to escape, but I choked them down with a slow sip of coffee, relishing the comfort of being surrounded by people who gave a damn. It may have been a carefully constructed illusion to maintain my sanity, now, but it was comforting.

“…okay,” I said quietly. The rest of the words died softly in my heart.

I put the coffee mug on the table and stood. I wobbled once, and Bear grasped my elbow until I was steady. I stopped in the hallway, looking back at them.

Bear was still looking at the carpet, but he sent me a glance and a small, forced smile. Tiger kept looking out the window, his shoulders low, contrasting with his tense features. Lion was looking right at me. Strong and thoughtful. He gave me a nod, encouraging me to go lie down as they discussed my future.

“Thanks,” I whispered softly. I wasn’t sure if anyone but Lion knew I’d said it.

I didn’t wait for a response.

“Should we leave him alone?” I heard Bear ask softly after I’d pushed the door closed, leaving it the slightest bit ajar. He sounded uncertain.

“The windows don’t open, and I want him to rest,” Lion said, matching his volume. “We need to figure out…what to do. I think this is a lot bigger than we thought.”

“We’re not abandoning him, though,” Bear said pointedly, a sliver of disbelief worming its way into his voice.

“No,” Lion said. “Of course not. We just need to be careful about how we proceed.”

“Oh, come off it,” Tiger said, and he was louder than the others. I flinched, closing my eyes and leaning my forehead against the doorjamb, listening with my ear pressed to the small gap. “Careful? Kid’s got bloody terrorists after him. We can’t do _careful_.”

Lion said something about him calming down, but I eased the door shut.

Bear was right. They weren’t abandoning me, but I was abandoning them.

I scribbled an apology and a few words of gratitude on a paper and put it on the bed next to my bag, looking around the room.

It had been a bubble of security and comfort. It wasn’t mine, but I was…still sad to leave it.

I went through my bag and took out my pictures, leaving the bag itself and the rest of its contents, save some spare change in case I needed to make any calls, and my knife and gun. I wouldn’t need the rest of it.

I eased open the window I’d previously cut open, sardonically happy at the coincidence. The fire escape was two windows over, so I shimmied along the ledges until I reached it, stepping down the rickety old thing as quietly as I could, dropping the last ten feet to the ground. I landed in a crouch, sent one last look at the open window, and ran.

…

It didn’t take long for them to find me.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t the people I’d reluctantly hoped for.

It had long since fallen dark, so I wandered the shadowed alleyways and backstreets, stopping each time my emotions threatened to overwhelm me. Finally, I made myself stop, and breathe, and assess.

Now wasn’t the time to let things go to hell. I’d let myself break down in the flat, where I was safe. Now, I was exposed, and vulnerable. I couldn’t afford to let my emotions get the better of me just yet.

I took a breath, pushing everything to the back of my mind, and continued on.

The assassin found me a few minutes later, when I was about a hundred meters away from Cookham Bridge.

I knew they would. I’d been sticking to empty, poorly lit streets with the intention of doing so. I had a plan to—to end it, like I’d thought, but I wasn’t going to bloody well leave the assassin hanging around L-Unit, either. I’d take them with me if it was the last thing I did.

And if it was…that was alright. Not ideal, but alright.

A strange sense of morbid contentment slipped over my the longer I walked, the more I thought about it. I’d been struggling for so long, and now that I knew it wouldn’t last…well, what use did I have for a future?

It hurt to consider, and it made me feel weak. I couldn’t even imagine the incredulous look Ian would give me. The biting words Sabina would have for me for even considering the fact. The horrorstruck eyes and trembling hands Jack would have.

But they weren’t there.

Suddenly, the assassin was.

They leapt from the shadows on my right, where I’d spotted them from down the street. Perhaps they knew they were being watched, and knew that I’d anticipate a bullet, so they waited. I slid my knife out from the sleeve of my hoodie, meeting theirs with a dull clang that reverberated throughout the silent street.

A passionate determination fueled my movements. I had no motivation to live, and I was no longer hellbent on survival, but I _was_ absolutely determined to keep this shadowy reaper away from the people I’d come to value.

The assassin took a clinical swipe at my injured arm. I knew I couldn’t deflect with the strength I had on that side, so I dodged, trying to return with a roundhouse kick that was quickly pushed aside. The swiped at me again, and I dodged, and they blocked.

The assassin was quite good at keeping me on the defensive, I realized. After a moment of trying to analyze their pattern by the cool sweat gathering on my clammy skin, I realized they were using my weakness to their advantage, playing the long game. They knew I wasn’t nearly recovered enough to last in a long fight, and they were banking on that fact.

I had to finish this quickly, then.

I was almost decapitated as I took the energy to think instead of react, the blade whishing in front of my face close enough to brush through my bangs. I danced backwards, recalibrating, breathing heavily.

“It does not have to be painful, or long,” the voice said, I realized it was a man. Their face was completely covered, and their body was clad in dark, flexible fabric. The voice was accented. Eastern Europe, maybe.

“I’m not letting you hurt them,” I said, raising my knife. My arm hadn’t hurt in a long time, but it ached now, and I felt the uncharacteristically deep fatigue throb in my bones.

“I have no orders for them, unless they protect you,” he said. “Once you are dead, my assignment ends. Make this easy, _copil_.” (1)

“I don’t particularly feel like helping you do your job, thank you.”

I knew he was probably telling the truth. Contract killers usually didn’t take pleasure in their work, and most of them were surprisingly honest. Yassen was good proof of that.

But I also knew that unless I couldn’t help it, I wanted to go out on my own terms. With time to grieve a hopeless future and myself and my family.

I raised my knife, crouching into a defensive position.

The man might’ve sighed. I didn’t have time to ponder it as he sprang forward again.

He was very skilled, and had I not been keeping up with my karate exercises when I had time and felt strong enough, I probably would’ve been sliced to ribbons in seconds. As it was I was nicked several times, but they were all shallow cuts. At least I gave him a few, too.

The assassin was getting more frustrated the longer we went on—that much I could tell. Unfortunately, I was getting weaker, too.

I finally came to a head when I stumbled over a loose rock on the sidewalk, shattering my balance for a split second before I found my footing. However, he was a professional, and it was enough.

I cried out in pain as the knife plunged through my hoodie and across my side, clutching it instinctively as I stumbled back, glancing dizzily down. The darkness and the black fabric hid the blood, but I could feel it pounding steadily through my fingers. It wasn’t serious, but it would be soon.

As long as I could end this, it wouldn’t matter, but I couldn’t let it cost me this fight.

I glanced up, breathing heavily, trying to push aside the pain.

“Let me save you the trouble,” I said on a gamble, hoping he took the bait, even knowing he probably wouldn’t. “I’m on my way to throw myself off Cookham Bridge, so you’re expending a lot of energy for nothing.”

Despite the witty phrasing, saying the words was a sharp blow to my psyche, and I hoped the darkness hid how I faltered.

It was…really a thought. Really something I intended to do.

I was going to commit suicide.

The taboo word left an uncomfortable buzz in my mind, self-preservation and stubborn hope warring with depression and the practicality of my situation. I didn’t have much time to ponder, though.

The man had stilled in front of me, and though I couldn’t see his expression, I could see the questions in his stance.

“This is…not a situation I have come across before,” he said slowly.

I scoffed, panting, pain scratching at my side with icy claws. “I wouldn’t think so.”

After a few seconds of hesitation, I saw his stance tighten, and my heart dropped. “Unfortunately, I cannot take you at your word. If you are so quick to die, let me end it quickly, here.”

“No. I’m finishing this myself.”

The man didn’t hesitate again, rather threw himself back into the fight, dragging me with him.

The injury and the fatigue were both constant throngs of vulnerability, now, and I took more hits and more cuts than I would’ve liked to admit. He slammed the back of his fist into my cheekbone, and I stumbled back, reflexively ducking as he aimed a kick at my head. I got lucky, kicking out at his unprotected ankle, and he grunted in pain.

He recovered quickly, clinically, but it was enough time for my to rake my knife across his chest. It was a shallow cut, but it forced him to back up and regroup.

I panted, and suddenly, the world was a dizzying hurricane of colors. I looked down at the teetering ground, stumbling like a drunk in a bar to slam into the brick wall. I looked down and around the alley, taking in the writhing splotches of red dancing in my swaying vision. I’d lost more blood than I thought.

I gasped in a shallow breath, my knees shaking beneath me.

I barely had time to think before I was flat on my back in the dingy alley, my knife skittering across the cobblestones as I struggled to breathe. A hand wrapped around my throat, and my chest was crushed with the weight of someone’s body, and one of my arms were pinned.

I wheezed thinly, opening my eyes to stare at my attacker’s shrouded face.

“ _Nascentes morimur_ ,” he said quietly, almost comfortingly, as his face blurred above me. “ _Pulvis et umbra sumus_.” (2, 3)

I blinked heavily, trying to will strength into my free arm to fight back. The soles of my shoes weakly slid on the damp stones, but I had no traction. I had no strength. I had a fraying thread of will. I had little left to give.

I wheezed again, tears gathering in my eyes.

One last task, and I couldn’t even do it right.

“D-did…did you send…the letter…?” I croaked out, both buying time and hoping to die with the knowledge that there weren’t _two_ mysterious unknowns stalking my unit.

After a hesitant second, he nodded. “I did. My aim was to draw you out. I apologize for the crude method.”

A choked laugh bubbled in my gut. An assassin with remorse. How novel.

His moves were clinical and detached, but his words made him sound empathetic. Maybe he was loathe to killing a child. Yassen didn’t kill kids. I wondered if that was a common code among contract killers.

Obviously it didn’t extend to all of them.

“I hope you find peace,” he said at last, flipping the knife around in his hand, readying his arm to bring it down into my prone body as I gasped, my vision blurred with tears of pain. “Take comfort. You leave behind a world of sorrow.”

In a final act of willful stubbornness, I finally got my hand around the gun in my pocket, clicking off the safety and pointing it up.

“You first,” I rasped.

I fired three shots blindly, feeling the bullets tear through the pocket of my jacket, the barrel burning my thigh through my pants. One bullet tore uselessly into the vest under his clothes, but another hit his shoulder, and another hit his neck.

The gunshots shattered the quiet night, and I heard dogs barking in response, but it was otherwise quiet. The assassin above me was still for a surreal second, even as blood pumped from his wounds.

The knife clattered from his hand onto the stone, and he put a shaking hand to his throat, a horrible, guttural wheezing crackling from his lips. I shifted, trying to throw him off, and he toppled sideways onto his back, blood pooling around his neck and shoulder.

My gut twisted. I wondered if I’d be punished for this, after I died.

I took a deep breath now that his weight was gone, coughing in pain and discomfort, rubbing my throat. I sat up slowly, the world tilting like a drunken funhouse around me, and clumsily sent his knife spiraling away from him.

I knelt beside him, trying to get my bearings back. “You attacked first,” I said finally, watching the life bleed from his eyes, now the only part of his face I could see clearly. They were green, and wide. They looked the tiniest bit afraid. “But I’m sorry.”

I left the weak apology at that, stumbling to my feet, feeling unfounded guilt nearly cripple me as I left him to bleed out. I staggered to the mouth of the alley, my bloody hand trailing the brick wall in search of support. I barely had energy to put one foot before the other. My gun dangled loosely in my grip.

Another gunshot sounded, and pain tore through my thigh. I screamed in agony as I collapsed onto my knees, whirling around to see his gun, that I’d so conveniently forgotten about in my fatigue and confusion, shaking in his hand.

I closed my eyes and cursed SCORPIA for their training, and shot him in the head.

I opened my eyes, hesitantly, to see him lying dead. The gun was limp in his hand. Blood pooled around his skull.

I let my gun fall. I didn’t want to go with a thing like that in my hand.

Fire burned in my leg, but I knew immediately that it wasn’t a bad wound. A through and through. I didn’t bother to stop the bleeding. What was the point?

I dragged myself up, cold shock numbing the wound enough for me to stagger towards Cookham Bridge.

Dogs were still barking, and I wondered if people were calling the police. I’d have to be quick, then. Or maybe they wouldn’t go further than the source of the shots. Maybe.

I staggered down the sidewalk, my blood dripping onto the stones as I dragged my leg beneath me and held my side, blood slipping between my fingers. I swiped a hand under my nose, and that was bleeding, too.

My quiet, short pants echoed in the still night, and through my wavering vision, I watched the water as I walked.

I’d been through a lot of awful things in water, but I also had so many good memories, as well. Jack taking me to the beach, or the lake, to wade around and laugh and be. Ian and I spending days at the lake with her, or by the river fishing, or SCUBA diving, or snorkeling. Tom and I exploring the streams in the forests outside London, splashing around like carefree kids.

I coughed, stumbling, but continued on.

Tom. Tom. I wondered if he’d ever know.

Like a stupid twist of cruel fate, I paused in front of a payphone.

I looked around, smiling slightly. I had the strength, and the time. I hadn’t spoken to Tom in so long, and…and he was about to be rid of me, anyhow.

With trembling fingers, barely managing to hold on to the change, I slid it into the payphone. I punched in his number, thumbprints of blood perverting the innocent keypad, and waited.

He was probably asleep. I hoped I could leave a message.

To my surprise, though, he answered.

“H’llo?” His groggy voice said, and my heart twisted painfully. “Who’s this?”

I took a shaky, disbelieving breath, and laughed quietly.

“Look, if this is a prank call at one in the bloody morning—”

“Hi, Tom,” I croaked, leaning against the glass door of the booth as fatigue washed over me.

There was a crackle of static for a few seconds that seemed to stretch, and it was almost easy to imagine his confused face, his disbelieving blue eyes widening in realization.

“Alex?”

“Hi,” I said again, closing my eyes. My legs shook. I should hurry.

“Oh, my God,” Tom said, and I heard frantic rustling, some banging. He was scrambling out of bed, I was sure. “Alex. Oh my God. I haven’t—I haven’t heard from you in—in _months_. Are you okay? Where are you? Why didn’t you—why didn’t you _call me_?”

I smiled, eyes still closed, and wished I could see him again. I missed him. “Sorry. I…I d-don’t have long.” I took a shaky breath. “I’m hurt…pretty bad. Just…calling to…I dunno. I missed you.”

I heard Tom still, his familiar look of panic quite easy to picture. “Alex? Please tell me you’re going to be okay. I’ll fly out to wherever you are. Are you in London? I’ll come to London. Seriously. Jerry, _shut up_ , just—please tell me where you are and who you’re with.”

“Cookham,” I said quietly, hearing the warning beep of the payphone. I only had half a minute left. “With an…an SAS unit. I d-don’t…have long. Just…th-thanks, Tom. You were…an awesome mate.”

“No, please don’t, don’t say goodbye like that,” Tom said, fear coloring his voice as panic lowered his volume. “Please, Al. Seriously, don’t do this. Come on, man, not—not like this, okay? I’m coming. I’m coming to Cookham, I swear, so tell me—”

“Bye,” I said. I tried to hang up the phone, but it slipped from my bloody fingers. The cord pulled taut, and it swung slightly. I heard Tom shouting through the receptor until the call cut off.

I stumbled to the bridge, working my way to the center, my head light and my body throbbing. 

I swayed, grabbing the railing with my free hand, but it wasn’t enough. I collapsed onto my knees on the bridge, feeling my body list to the right, against the solid fence. I opened my heavy eyes, wishing the fence were mesh so I could watch the water, but all I could do was listen.

With bloody fingers, I took out the photos from my pocket and clumsily leafed through them, letting my head thunk quietly against the metal wall.

I wondered if Dad ever thought about ending it, before he met Mum. After all, he saw the same things I did. Was Mum the reason he stayed? Or was he just stronger than me?

I wondered how Mum felt, marrying an MI6 operative. Was she scared? Impressed? Proud?

I wondered how Ian felt about having to take me in. I knew he hadn’t wanted kids, but he’d been…a really good guardian, before I’d found out all the secrets he kept. Before he’d left me to MI6 like a piece of furniture to a distant cousin. I wondered if this was what he’d intended. I liked to believe it wasn’t, but a traitorous part of me wondered. Still, I wondered if he’d be proud of me.

I wondered if Yassen regretted dying for me now that I was about to finish the job myself. I wondered if he was disappointed, or if he understood. Of all of the people in my pictures, he seemed like the only one who might understand. I wondered if he’d give me a terse nod and walk away, letting me complete my task.

My eyes clouded with tears. I wondered if Jack regretted loving me. It had cost her everything.

I wondered the same thing about Sabina.

I put the pictures in a neat stack carefully by the wall, weighting them down with a loose rock. It was a stupid suicide note, but it was all I had.

That finished, I tried to muster the strength to stand, but none came.

I let my eyes closing my eyes in disappointed defeat. Maybe this was better. If I jumped, the fall wouldn’t kill me—it probably wouldn’t even hurt. It wasn’t very high. I’d have to make myself drown, and I didn’t like the thought of it.

I think I might have been unable to do it, anyways. I honestly couldn’t say one way or the other if I’d have had the strength to end my own life.

Perhaps this was alright. It was the middle of the night—no one would find me here. I could feel the life ebbing away from the gunshot wound, the cut on my side, the fatigue in my bones, the cuts around my body. I could feel it seeping out because I wanted it to.

Well, maybe not. But it was better this way. I didn’t have to make it happen, now. Just…let it.

I let my eyes flutter closed after taking a moment to keep them stubbornly open, trying to let myself experience the world one more time. If God was there, He was being merciful tonight—it was a full moon. It was really nice to see, too.

I hoped the person who found my body would be alright to handle it. I hoped it wasn’t a kid, or a parent. I hoped it was…a doctor, or a soldier, or a constable. I prayed it wasn’t L-Unit.

I smiled a little, feeling myself fade as my eyes finally closed.

L-Unit. Maybe it would be okay to think of them as family just this once. Before I didn’t get the chance to again.

They were an awesome family. I wished I had a picture with them for the pile.

I let my hands fall, and my eyes fall, and my heart slow. I hoped wherever I was going was better, that the assassin’s final words were true. I hoped that they wouldn’t blame themselves.

I hoped MI6 would learn from their mistakes, and SCORPIA would crumble in the future.

I exhaled slowly, and let the darkness ebb in.

The last things I heard were the gentle rippling of the water, my slowing heart in my ears, and the distant hallucination of someone calling my name.

_1: Child, in Romanian_

_2: “From the moment we are born, we begin to die” in Latin [uncredited]_

_3: “We are dust and shadow” in Latin [Horace]_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh my God. I…don’t know what just happened. 
> 
> Honest to God, even I’m mad at myself for ending it there. Never fear! The next chapter is already started. But yeah. That was mean. 
> 
> No more promises. I don’t know what’s going to happen from now on. I was just like “hey wow that note happened now I’m going to magically make K-Unit appear to help them deal with”. That was the plan. When my hands started typing, the plan dissolved, and now the story has me firmly by the ponytail and is dragging me along. I don’t know what’s going to happen. Honestly. K-Unit is coming SOON. I’m 99% sure next chapter. We’ll say that. Very soon. I’m so sorry, I know you were excited. All I can do is keep apologizing and write fast. 
> 
> Anyways, well…I really hope you liked it anyway. Darker than usual, but our poor bean was in a dark place. Let me know what you thought :)
> 
> Thank you guys so much for sticking with me, and if you need support, I urge you to seek it. You are valued, and enough. My PMs are open if you ever need to talk :)


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Optional Autor’s Note: I had a really awesome question from a Guest about what music I thought about while writing this, so if you want one HELL of a feels trip, go re-read last chapter starting with the phone call to Tom while listening to “Burning House” by Cam. Feels trip guaranteed. Honestly. 
> 
> ONWARD!

I woke up.

The realization alone was staggering. I wasn’t—I wasn’t supposed to _wake up_. That wasn’t the plan. I’d planned to slip painlessly away by the water. I’d planned to just…fall asleep. To just fall asleep and wake up somewhere _better_ , or at least—at least different. This wasn’t—this wasn’t supposed to happen.

Then the pain came.

I _hurt_. I hurt in a way I hadn’t hurt in a long time, since before the sepsis. The infection had been a constant, fiery _burn_ , but this was the throbbing ache of a bruise that had been aggravated far too much, the bone-deep pain that signified exhaustion as well as injury.

I took a shaky breath, turning my head and clenching the blanket over me with my left hand, trying and failing to stifle a sound of surprised pain. My right hand hurt, and felt tight. I wondered where I was. My leg and my side _pounded_ , and my temples throbbed.

“Jag?”

A familiar voice.

No. _No_. They weren’t—they weren’t supposed to find me. It wasn’t—I was supposed to—

“Bear, Lion,” the voice called. “He’s waking up.”

No I wasn’t. I was slipping away. Painlessly. That was the _plan_.

“Alex, come on,” he said, and it was Tiger. He didn’t sound angry anymore. He was supposed to be angry. Why wasn’t he angry? “Come on, now. Don’t make me apologize to a half-dead idiot. You’d complain it was too easy, and it didn’t count.”

He wasn’t supposed to be _worried_ , he was supposed to be _angry,_ they—they were supposed to let me go. I wanted them to let me go.

That’s what I said. That’s what I said, but the utter relief flooding my veins was too palpable to ignore.

There was suddenly a hand on my forehead, big and warm and gentle. “Alex?” It was Lion. His voice was low and soft. It didn’t sound like him, but it was comforting. “Come on. You’re scaring us.”

Resigned, hopeful despite myself, I let my heavy, sticky eyes blink open.

One of them was swollen, and only opened to a narrow slit, but I let the other one roam. I blinked quickly, trying to clear the fluorescent spots from my eyes.

Heavy rays of late morning beat in through the drawn shades, reflecting off the glass table in the center of the room. I was lying on the sofa on a blanket—I supposed so I didn’t bleed all over their furniture—and there was another blanket wrapped around me. I wasn’t wearing a shirt, but my chest was wrapped in several bandages, gauze wound tight around the wound on my side. I felt heat flame in my face as I realized I wasn’t wearing trousers, either, but someone had been merciful and left my boxers on. I supposed they had to get to the bullet wound, and my modesty wasn’t the main issue. A cold cloth was draped over my neck, I supposed to help with the swelling.

I glanced up, and saw an IV drip improvised on a tall shelf from one of their rooms, fluids dripping into my elbow. I wondered if they’d had it on hand. Knowing how frenetic Bear was about his unit’s health, I’d guess they had.

And they were here. They were _here_.

Bear was leaning worriedly over the back of the sofa, his fingers around my left wrist as he checked my pulse. Tiger was in the armchair, leaning forward, his face uncharacteristically blank. There was no trace of anger. Just…blank. His face was a sickly pale. And Lion was kneeling beside my head, his hand on my forehead, looking worried. Scared. As scared as when he ran a hand through his nephew’s hair after his abusive father approached him.

“Hey, kid,” he said softly. A small, brittle smile was on his face, his eyes narrowed in worry, but he looked so, so relieved.

My eyes filled with tears, and I was so sick of crying, because I’d done so much of it, but I was—I was frustrated. And scared, and…and _relieved_ , even though I shouldn’t have been, but I was.

I blinked most of them back, but from my swollen eye, they just kind of…seeped, unbidden.

“How do you feel?” Bear asked after a few seconds.

I breathed, my throat aching, and rasped, “Bad.” Bad in my body and my heart and my mind and my _soul_.

Bear nodded, his eyes grim, and darker than normal. “I bet. Shall I list it, then?”

Bear sounded mad. The kind of mad Jack got when the Bank called. Mad at me out of worry and frustration.

I didn’t say anything, just blinked, and Bear took it as a confirmation.

“Through and through to your right thigh, which barely missed your bloody femoral artery,” he said stiffly, his voice unusually toneless. “From what I can tell, sprained ankle, bruised hip. Cracked ribs, a veritable stab wound on your left side, and a dozen little nicks all over you. Fractured nose, mild concussion judging by your pupils, swollen windpipe. Fractured knuckles, sprained wrist, and enough bruises to turn you into abstract art. You’re beat to hell. You’re lucky Tiger’s the same blood type. We had to give you two units.”

I blinked at the popcorn ceiling, trying to ignore the hovering faces and the tight words and the fact that I was still _alive_.

“What were you thinking?” Lion finally asked, his voice tense in restrained anger and blatant concern.

I swallowed, and winced, and blinked. “They s-sent…an assassin. I had t-to…” I coughed, shutting my eyes in pain. “I had t-to…make sure he d-didn’t…didn’t come here.”

“Does this have anything to do with the body found by Cookham Bridge this morning? That just happened to be one of Interpol’s Most Wanted?” Tiger asked. His face was still blank. I supposed he was so pale because he was running low on blood. I felt distantly bad. And grateful.

I nodded, sucking in an exhausted breath. “M’sorry. I d-didn’t…d-didn’t want to…kill him. I was worried h-he’d…hurt you.”

“Don’t apologize,” Bear snapped, sounding less mad, but still frustrated. “God. Don’t—don’t ever apologize for defending yourself, or us, even though we could’ve _helped_.” He sounded pointedly upset.

“What happened next?” Lion asked.

I swallowed again. I wanted nothing more than to sleep. “I-I…called T-Tom. My f-friend.” I smiled at the memory. “I wanted t-to…talk to him.” One more time. It went unsaid, but the implication was there.

I wondered if he was angry. I wondered if he’d come, even though he couldn’t find me. It seemed like the sort of reckless decision he’d make out of fear and in the moment. I could almost see him, disembarking from the plane on a mission, blue eyes steely in determination, only to wander the streets of Cookham aimlessly. It was enough to make me smile.

“And then?” Tiger prompted.

I swallowed one more time, tears flooding my eyes again, seeping out despite myself. I didn’t want to say it. “I wanted…t-to leave.”

“You left your bag,” Lion said quietly.

I closed my eyes. “Different k-kind…of leave.”

They didn’t say anything for a long moment. I supposed they were expecting it. My note hadn’t been…subtle, I guess, and me leaving the bag was note enough.

Someone got up and stiffly left the room without a word, and I heard the soft closing of a door. I thought it was Tiger. It sounded like his heavy footsteps, but they were uncertain, and disjointed.

“I’m s…sorry,” I said quietly, in pain and upset and defeated.

“We’re just glad you’re okay,” Lion said, hand still warm and firm on my forehead. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t stand the disappointment right now. Not…not after everything. “Just…just rest, alright? We’re not going anywhere for a while. We’ll talk when you feel a little better.”

I let myself relax at his words, the need to sleep overpowering my need to—to understand. To understand why I didn’t die. Why, after everything, the most morbid irony had come to pass, and I’d been unable to kill myself because I was too badly injured. I almost laughed. (1)

I felt myself fading, knowing that it was into sleep instead of eternity, and despite my failure, I felt a twisted kind of satisfaction. While I wanted nothing more than to _rest_ …I was still alive. Despite SCORPIA’s best efforts, I was still here, and L-Unit hadn’t abandoned me, even though I’d done it first.

It wasn’t enough, but it was something.

…

The next time I woke, I felt marginally better.

I supposed it must have been the fluids. I could tell I hadn’t slept for long—softer rays of early evening were slanting through the drawn curtains. Lion was sat in the armchair, flipping through a magazine. His eyes were unfocused, and distant.

I didn’t see Bear or Tiger. I wondered where they were. I blinked at the ceiling, the pain having ebbed considerably. Perhaps they’d given me something in the IV. It felt nice.

I wondered distantly how things would go from now on. If they’d force me to take leave until I was better, physically and emotionally. If they’d walk on eggshells around me for the duration on my time here. If…if things would be different. I wondered if I should tell them the rest of it, now. My age, MI6, K-Unit, my uncle, my family…I wondered how much lower I could possibly sink.

I smiled bitterly, exhaling slowly. Who knew? I didn’t want to tempt fate, but the lies were becoming unbearable.

“Hi,” I rasped quietly. I’d think about it later.

Lion flinched, glancing at me quickly. He closed the magazine and tossed it onto the table, leaning forward. “Hey.”

I blinked thickly, still heavy with sleep, and breathed. It was a thin wheeze; my throat was still tight, but it felt a lot better than the first time I’d woken up. My ribs ached, my side stung.

“Feeling any better?” He asked, scooting forward a little.

I started to shrug, then thought better of it, and nodded. “A little.”

He nodded. “Good. Bear gave you some of the good stuff. Nothing too loopy, though. He knew you didn’t like it.”

I smiled a little to myself. Of course he remembered. Mad as he was, he still remembered.

“Where…?” I started.

“Where are he and Tiger?” Lion guessed, and I nodded. “Tiger’s sleeping. He’s always been a little anemic, and two pints really took it out of him. He’s fine, we gave him some juice and some sweets, but he’s still kind of tired. Oi,” he said as I felt guilt bleed onto my face. “Don’t do that. He was just glad he could do something to help.”

Hesitantly, I nodded. I’d need to thank Tiger later.

“Bear’s out procuring some pharmaceutical antibiotics and a couple oxygen tanks,” Lion said with a reluctant smile. “He’s got scary connections, I tell you. He was worried about your immune system after the sepsis, and you’ve been wheezing a lot.”

I managed a half smile, glad that Bear was still…alright with me. A familiar pull told me my lip was split. I supposed Bear had stitched it up.

I blinked at the ceiling again, feeling heavy.

“How did—” I coughed once, my face twisting in pain as my ribs shouted in protest, taking a stuttered breath to recover. “How did…you know…?”

“Where to find you?” He finished, his face becoming carefully blank as he looked away.

I nodded.

Lion shrugged, quiet for a long minute, and said, “I…remembered. You said when you had…when you had really, really bad days, you went to the nearest bridge.” He glanced back at me, pain clouding his blue eyes as memories resurfaced, and I understood. “I took the gamble, and we drove like hell. We didn’t know you were gone for…for a while. I thought you were sleeping, or resting, or…”

He scrubbed a hand over his face, looking tired. Looking _worn_. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve known not to leave you alone. I should’ve—” He broke off, his voice much more uncertain than the Lion I’d come to know.

“Lion,” I said quickly, my brows furrowing even as my face flared in pain at the movements. I reached out my left hand, my body aching, and tugged at his wrist. Finally, he took his hands away from his face, and looked at me. His eyes were dark with shadows of the possibilities filling his head. I knew the feeling. I took a thin breath, continuing, “It was my decision. You…you’re n-not to blame. You d-didn’t make me like…like this.” I breathed again, trying not to feel the pain, trying to make him understand. “If not…f-for you, and Bear and Tiger…it would have h-happened a long time ago.”

He shook his head, and let me continue holding his wrist. “But I knew, Jag. I knew on that bridge, when you told me about…about your system. I _knew_ , even if you didn’t say it. And even with how upset you were, I still let you be alone. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Don’t,” I said finally, blinking rapidly. “Don’t. Please. I…I d-don’t want you to be s-sorry. It was my f-fault…”

He took a deep breath, still looking unsure, and guilty as hell, but he looked at me. His eyes were still guilty, but hard again. “I’ll stop feeling guilty if you promise to never, _ever_ put me through that again. I can’t—not after Elliot, and not after—after getting to know you, after opening up to you, trying to help you…please, Alex. You’re a lot more important to us than that. You can’t just…you can’t just disappear. Alright?”

I blinked, turning away from him, but I didn’t let go of his wrist. Not yet. It was grounding me, even though my fingers were trembling. I wondered if he noticed. “…I can try,” I conceded. While I was reluctantly glad to be alive, despite everything…the pain was still very deep, and raw, and open, and it _ached_.

“I just…I’m t-tired, Lion,” I admitted finally, blinking at the blurred ceiling and letting my eyes close, letting myself finally… _feel_. Finally experience the pain I’d buried so deep, and it _hurt_. It—it _burned_ so badly I felt the physical pain in my head, in my heart. “I’m so fucking tired.”

It was a bone-deep weariness that filled each orifice and bone and tendon with lead, a planet attached to each limb, millions of lives strapped to each shoulder. It was like dragging myself through molasses under that weight every day, only to be expected to _run_ when people chased after me.

I’d been waiting so, so long to rid myself of the weight, and I couldn’t even do that.

Lion didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything he could say to make this better, and he knew that. I knew that. My fingers shook as they clenched his wrist. He just put a strong hand on my forehead and sat beside me, letting me know that he was there.

And despite everything I’d done to make that irrelevant, to make it a lie, he was there. And Tiger and Bear were there. And maybe even Tom was there.

I’d tried so hard to be alone, even though I was so _tired_ of it, because I knew it would only be worse when I had to let them go.

It looked like it wasn’t up to me anymore.

“I’m sorry, Alex,” he breathed, and I felt my chest start to heave, buried sobs revolting and finally worming their way into the open. It hurt. It _burned_. It wasn’t just my ribs and side. “I’m so sorry. We’re going to fix it, I promise. We’ll find a way.”

“I just wanted to _rest_ , I just want it t-to…to _stop_ …”

Lion didn’t say anything for a long minute, just held my unbroken hand and kept a hand on my head as I cried, as I crumbled, as I fell apart in front of him, finally just…letting go. I let the thread snap, and months and months and _years_ of solitude and terror and pain finally came crashing out in a staggering tidal wave.

And Lion sat beside me as I drowned in it, quiet and unmoving.

“I don’t know what’s happened,” he finally said, his voice thin and brittle. “I dunno everything, Alex. I don’t. I know I don’t. But I promise, when you’re ready to tell us everything…we’ll listen, and it’ll be okay, and we’ll handle it. I promise. So please promise me you’re going to give us that chance.”

“What if…” I swallowed, my hand shaking as he gripped it, and I felt so bad as I tried to steal strength from him. Tears streaked down my bruised, swollen face, and it ached, like everything else. “What if I lied…about something? Really important? That…that could get you in…a lot of trouble?”

Lion didn’t falter the slightest bit. What was it like to have that kind of confidence? In yourself, in the people who loved you and who you loved? I wondered. “Then we’ll handle it.”

I blinked at the ceiling again, my body aching, my heart pulsating with acute pain. After the crying, my lungs shuddering, it was hard to breathe. “It won’t…it won’t be that easy.”

“Never said it had to be,” he said, a small, easy half-smile on his lips. He hesitated, then said, quietly, “You didn’t believe Tiger, in the hospital. When he called you our brother. When he called you the…the youngest of the family.”

I didn’t correct him, just waited for him to continue. I took another thin, rattling breath.

“It was premature, and Tiger knew that,” he said thoughtfully. “He admitted that to me and Bear later. He was afraid he’d scared you off, and we knew it couldn’t really be that way just yet. But…that’s not the case anymore, Alex. It’s really not. It’s alright if you don’t consider us family just yet. I know that’s hard for you, and we understand that. Just know that…even if we’re not yours, you’re ours. Blood means absolutely nothing to us, and no matter what you’ve done, who you were…we know you as Alex, as Jaguar, as Matthew, whoever you want to be, and we accept you.

“I don’t care who tries to take you from us,” Lion continued, quiet and strong and final. Ice in his tone and iron in his posture painted the picture of an unmovable force of tempered steel, and I selfishly wished for that shield, and for some reason, it was being given to me for free. “I don’t care if it’s a terrorist organization, or…or somebody else from your past, or even _you_. I told you, you’re not going anywhere without a fight.”

His hand was tight around mine, and this time, I couldn’t tell which of us was shaking.

“You won’t—” I swallowed, choking on the words, coughing once, but I had to get them out. “You won’t…leave me.”

I couldn’t ask the question, but I could let him confirm the tentative statement.

He smiled. “No. No, we won’t leave you.”

I looked away from him, up at the swaying ceiling, and cried.

For the first time in…in a long time, in _years_ , it felt good to cry.

…

Tiger came out of his room maybe half an hour later, looking a little better.

“Thanks,” I said with a smile as he took Lion’s seat beside me. Lion said he was going to put something on for dinner.

Tiger shrugged, still pale, but with a little more color. “Least I could do.” His hands were busy. “I shouldn’t have yelled. I know that’s not what you needed.”

I shrugged one shoulder, wincing, and exhaled slowly. “S’alright. I…I know it…was a stupid thing to do.”

“Still. I was an arse. So…yeah.”

I smiled a little, unable to laugh, and said, “You’re allergic to…the s-word, aren’t you?”

He laughed, and it was good-natured, and a little relieved. “Only with you, half-pint.”

And then it was forgiven.

I still ached. I still _hurt_. But it was…it was manageable. There was finally a balm of companionship and—and family that I could accept to ease the burning loneliness, and…and it made the hurt just a little easier to carry.

Someone knocked on the door.

I flinched, and hissed in pain, but Tiger must have seen the terrified expression on my face. “It’s alright. It’s probably Bear. You know how often he forgets his key.”

Okay. Okay, the explanation made sense. I was overreacting an assassin probably wouldn’t…wouldn’t knock. And if it was an MI6 grunt, they wouldn’t let him in. It was okay. “Just…just check,” I said pleadingly.

“I will,” Tiger said, lightly patting my shoulder before going to answer the door. I stayed rigid on the sofa, my injuries aching as my muscles tensed, and listened. Lion had come out of the kitchen at the knock, and was standing in the foyer. He shot me a reassuring smile.

Tiger looked through the peephole, cursed brilliantly, and opened the door.

“Oh, _shit_ ,” I heard Lion breathe before he swept forward, replacing Tiger at the door. I couldn’t see who it was, and Lion was talking quietly, and I couldn’t—

Had I missed someone? Had someone else come to finish the job?

It hurt like a son of a bitch, but I grabbed the back of the sofa and levered myself up. My entire core and arms were absolutely trembling, and it _hurt_ , but if it was—if it was another assassin, someone come for me, I couldn’t—I couldn’t let them get hurt—

“No, Jag, stay down, everything’s fine—” Tiger said, coming around to the back of the sofa and trying to push me down.

Too late. Panting, wheezing, I leaned heavily against the back of the sofa and Tiger’s hand, and looked at the door.

The thin breath stopped in my lungs.

Four pairs of eyes turned to my beaten, pathetic form, and I froze.

“Fucking _brilliant_ ,” I managed, closing my eyes at the utter _absurdity_.

“Alex?”

Fox’s voice was one of utter shock, like he couldn’t believe I was really in front of him. From the brief looks I’d caught of the others, Wolf’s eyes were blown wide, and Eagle and Snake just looked surprised. I supposed more because of my physical state than who I was.

The moment of disbelieving silence shattered, and Fox tried to come to my side with heavy, frantic, angry footfalls. The way his face darkened made me flinch, and I know Tiger felt it, because his hands tightened.

Lion must’ve seen it, too, because he was quick to put himself in Fox’s path. “You need to _back up_ ,” he said, his voice dangerously low, hand planted on Fox’s chest.

Fox’s eyes darkened even more. “You don’t know the situation. I know him.”

“I don’t care if you know him. You don’t go anywhere near him unless he says it’s okay.”

“Just—just _hang on_ a bloody minute,” Wolf said, pushing past Eagle and into the flat. Tiger left to intercept, and without his support, I sank quickly back down onto the sofa, wheezing. It was really, _really_ hard to breathe now, and I wondered when Bear would be back with that oxygen tank.

“Cub? Is that— _Cub_?”

 _Yep_ , I thought bitterly. _It’s Cub._

“Can we just—just all calm down a minute,” Snake said, his Scottish voice slow in confusion. “I don’ know wha’s goin’ on, but there’s an explanation, so how about we all just…listen to it?”

Snake was just as level-headed as I remembered, and it sounded like just what was needed.

“Told you it would be interesting,” I heard Eagle mutter among several shuffling footsteps.

I couldn’t see the reactions, as I stared dizzily at the ceiling and tried to take deeper breaths, but I didn’t hear any further altercations.

“Jag, y’alright?” Lion asked, leaning over the back of the sofa. His eyes were worried.

I glanced at him, my chest throbbing. “Hurts to…to breathe.”

Lion’s eyes narrowed, and he sighed. “I’ll call Bear and get an ETA. Just…just take slow breaths, alright?”

I nodded, wheezing.

“C-can…” I coughed, wincing, and continued, “C-can I…talk to Fox and Wolf? A…alone?”

Lion’s eyes narrowed, and it was completely obvious that he was less than pleased with the suggestion. “I dunno, Jag…I can make them leave…”

“Please?”

He sighed through his nose, sending a dubious glance in Fox’s direction. “Fine. Just yell if you need us.”

I nodded, and tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace.

I could tell Tiger wasn’t happy about being relegated to the kitchen, but Lion dragged him and Snake and Eagle away anyways, and Tiger said something about coffee with a good bit of brandy. I had to smile. Fox came to sit in the armchair at my head, leaving Wolf awkwardly at my feet, over which he made his annoyance clear.

“What the _hell_ , Cub,” Wolf started up, his face absolutely _black_ in anger and confusion.

I took an audible breath. “Fancy meeting…you here.”

His eyes narrowed. “I’d smack you if you weren’t already beat to hell.”

I smirked a little, but it didn’t hold for long. The words reminded me of Lion, in the hospital after Hollis.

“I have so many questions I don’t even know which one to start with,” Fox admitted, eyes narrowed, “but ‘what the hell’ is a good one.”

I nodded, my chest tight in pain and panic. This was—this was such uncharted territory I couldn’t even begin to fathom the consequences. I couldn’t even _begin_ to understand my position, or what I was supposed to do. I never thought I’d be in the same room with Wolf again—or Fox, for that matter—and definitely not at the same time while my new unit was just a few meters away.

When I’d learned that K-Unit would be coming, I’d run through dozens of scenarios. I’d wondered what it would take to get Wolf to keep his mouth shut, I wondered if I could go to the Sergeant and request a different unit (that wasn’t likely, but it was a fleeting thought)…and I hadn’t reached a decision yet. I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t…I wasn’t ready. Everything had come crashing down yesterday, and the fortifications I’d built were _shattered_ , and…and I couldn’t deal with this right now.

But I didn’t have a choice, so I’d have to think of something fast.

“Give…give me a…a minute,” I said quietly, trying to settle my heart.

“Who did this?” Fox asked quietly, eyes trailing my battered form. I’d pulled the blanket up to cover most of the bandages and the bullet wound, but it was still painfully obvious how injured I was.

“…doesn’t matter now,” I said honestly, blinking at the ceiling.

“Oh, because that answers the question,” Wolf griped, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, just—just—what the hell are you doing in the SAS? I thought you were with M—”

“ _Stop_ ,” I pleaded, hissing in pain as my body lurched in response to the aborted statement, groaning as I laid back. “Ah, _shit_ …”

I took another breath, and said, “Look, just…assume th-they don’t know…know anything. _Please_.”

I looked pointedly at Fox, because he knew more, and he pursed his lips. “Alex—”

“If you want us to do a damned thing for you, you better start answering my bloody questions,” Wolf said. “Who…who did all _this_?”

I blinked heavily, thinking as quickly as my sluggish mind allowed. “Um…muggers.”

Wolf blinked. “Do _not_ test me right now.”

“Hang on, hang on,” Fox said, glancing at his friend. “Alex—Ja—whatever. Can you just…tell us what you wanted to talk to us about?”

God bless Fox. He was always a lot more level-headed. “I don’t want—want them to know. N-not yet. I’m not…not ready.”

“Wha—about what? About…” Wolf started, thankfully having enough tact to stop the statement. He glanced at the kitchen, then back at me, and mouthed, “ _MI6?_ ”

I nodded. “Not yet. N-not yet. _Please_.”

Fear was squirming in my gut like a nest of snakes, adding to the already-present nausea from the pain. If they—if now, of all times, somebody let something slip…

“We’ll keep our mouths shut if you explain what’s going on,” Fox assured, sending Wolf a dark glance when the man protested. “Wolf, seriously, please try to compromise for once in your life.”

I had to smirk as Wolf’s face reddened, and he muttered a curse under his breath.

“I…” I took a shaky breath. “A lot…a lot h-happened. After Point Blanc, after…after Major Yu. I c-can’t…explain it all, but…it was bad,” I admitted, blinking at the ceiling. “MI6 let me…me go.” Well, that was true. The only problem now was they wanted me back. “Others…d-didn’t. Some other things happened, and…now I’m…hiding. F-from them.”

Well. Not the best lie I’d ever told, but not the worst, either. Mostly truth. I could only hope they’d believe it.

I glanced at them apprehensively. Wolf’s eyes were narrow. “And how’s that working for you?” He asked with a pointed glance at my form.

I huffed a stuttered, bitter laugh. “N-not…great.”

He rubbed a hand down his face, eyes closed. “Damn kid. You get yourself into situations that I’m not sure should bloody exist to begin with.”

I gave him a half-smile. He was just as gruff as I remembered, but I was glad our progress after Point Blanc was holding. “It’s a…a habit.”

I glanced at Fox, whose eyes were much more suspicious, and swallowed. “C-could I…talk to Fox?”

Wolf sent me a dubious glance, but rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. Have your Bond meeting. I’m gonna go see about that brandy and try to make nice with your guard dogs.”

I smiled, watching him walk around the sofa and into the kitchen. He’d grown up. Two years as an SAS leader had obviously suited him well.

I said as much to Fox, and he smiled. “Yeah, he’s a lot more mature than when you were with us. Still has a hell of a temper, though. You should’ve seen him arguing with the hostage negotiator on our last mission. I thought we’d have to step in for them before taking care of the actual mission.”

I hummed in acknowledgement, closing my eyes briefly. I was exhausted.

“We can do this later, if you need to rest,” he said hesitantly.

I shook my head, my throat aching at the motion. “No, I’m…okay.” I blinked my eyes open again. I was really getting to know this ceiling. “Thought you were…seconded to…ya know.”

Fox smirked, but his eyes were still worried. “I requested to be transferred back to the SAS full-time. I didn’t like how they treated some of their agents,” he said pointedly, and I breathed a little laugh. “Luckily they hadn’t found a permanent replacement for me yet, so I ended up back with K-Unit.”

I nodded. “How’re…Eagle and Snake?”

Fox smiled, glancing at the kitchen. “Snake’s still Snake. Real quiet unless he’s talking to someone even quieter. Peacemaker. Good bloke. Eagle’s…a handful. Damn good soldier, and an even better friend, but he’s pretty immature. I forget he’s older than me sometimes.”

I smirked. I hadn’t interacted much with Snake or Eagle during training—or Fox, for that matter—but I remembered them as being bland, almost. Very gray. I supposed because I had bigger problems to deal with.

“How’s your unit?” Fox asked hesitantly, like he wasn’t sure whether or not he should broach the topic.

I smiled, closing my eyes. “Amazing. They’re…they’re really awesome.”

Fox smiled, too. “I’m glad.”

I shifted, hissing in pain. “Could I…talk to Lion? And Tiger?”

Fox looked unhappy about that. “I still have some things to ask you.”

“M’tired,” I admitted, blinking heavily.

Fox sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fine. Just…I’ll tell Eagle and Snake…what, that I saw you around? We got talking?”

I smirked a little. “I trust your…your judgment.”

“And I assume you don’t want… _them_ to know your whereabouts,” he said pointedly, “or your unit to know…some of your personal information.” My birthdate.

I nodded, feeling desperation leak into my eyes. “Please.”

He sighed. “Well, I’m officially not employed by the bank bastards anymore, so I have no loyalty to them,” he conceded. “And…the other thing…it’s your business, Alex, but I think you should tell them sooner rather than later. It…it bothered me, to say the least, when I found out.”

I felt my face crinkle in buried fear, but nodded, anyways. “I’ll…think about it.”

He huffed a laugh, putting his hand on my shoulder for a brief second, and paused. After a second of internal struggle, he said quietly, “I wondered…what happened to you. After.” He looked away, scratched his nose, and continued, “I’m glad you’re…out of that. And with good people.”

I smiled. “Thanks,” I whispered.

He nodded, his face suspiciously red, and wandered to the kitchen.

I closed my eyes. Damn SAS guys were really bad at showing emotion.

For how _badly_ that could have gone…I thought it went surprisingly well. I was glad. After all the shit I’d been through lately, I was glad to catch the break.

“You okay?” I heard Lion ask as he and Tiger wandered in. I opened my eyes. Tiger was holding a suspiciously large mug of coffee.

“Mm-hm,” I affirmed, taking a shallow breath.

“I’m so, _so_ sorry, Jag,” Lion said, eyes pinched in guilt and worry. “I invited them for dinner on the way back from the airport. I was going to tell you as soon as we got home, but then—then you had the letter, and then you disappeared. And…yeah. It completely slipped my mind, I was so worried about you.”

Ah. Well, that was shitty timing, but I understood. I wouldn’t have remembered my dinner plans either if someone had been bleeding out on my sofa.

“It’s okay,” I assured with a shadow of a smile, wincing. “What did…they say?”

Lion glanced at the kitchen, lips pursed. “Eagle and Snake didn’t seem to know much, only that Wolf called you Cub, and…and you trained with them? For two weeks?”

“S’that why you were so freaked out when Lion mentioned them?” Tiger asked. He was still pale, but looking a little better.

I nodded. “I-I…I worked with…with Wolf and Fox, separately. After…after being Cub.” I shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t…I didn’t want to…” I struggled to continue, frustrated.

“Take your time,” Lion said. “Really. It’s alright.”

I closed my eyes, trying to slow down. “Wolf knows some, and…Fox knows a lot. Things you…don’t know yet. But…you know things that…that they don’t know, either. And…putting them together could…” I shuddered, my wounds aching. “Could be…awful.”

“Okay,” Tiger said, sipping his coffee. “Don’t put them together. Sounds easy.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling so guilty, but they couldn’t find out about MI6 or my age or my past just yet. Not…not so soon after SCORPIA.

“We’ve been over this. Don’t apologize for stupid things,” Tiger said.

“You’ve had a long couple days,” Lion said with a faint smile. “We’d be monsters to ask you to explain anymore now.”

I smiled. I opened my mouth to respond, too, but Eagle’s shout drowned me out. “Oi, did one of you put something on the stove?”

Lion’s face drained of color. _“Shit_.”

He leapt up and ran to the kitchen, and I after a few seconds of intelligible chatter and some shouted orders, I heard a fire extinguisher.

Tiger looked _done._ “There goes the bloody security deposit,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I swear.”

I grinned, my lip stinging, but the rest of my aches and pains easing as little as I listened to the chatter. At that moment, I heard a key turn in the door, and I heard Bear stumble in, sounding laden with medical paraphernalia.

“Could I get some help here?” He asked, the door banging softly against the wall. “Seriously, I just went to four places to find the bloody—what the _hell_ —”

With Tiger’s help, I sat up enough to catch his dumbfounded expression as he caught sight of the four strangers in his kitchen, Lion’s disheartened expression as he gripped the empty fire extinguisher, and the foam covering their stove and what might have been soup.

Bear blinked, glancing at me, and then Tiger. “Well…what’d I miss?”

Despite everything, despite the pain I was in and the leftover panic still clogging my lungs, the uncertainty of the future, the memory of what I’d almost done and what it had almost cost…it felt good to laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1): Got this line from a reviewer on AO3! It was too awesome not to use :) Thank you hon! 
> 
> I fixed it! Kind of. Recovery isn’t that quick, of course. There will be more. But we’re on our way :)
> 
> K-UNIT!!! My babies! I hope I did them justice! Don’t worry, we’ll see a lot more of them later, I just didn’t want to get too deep into it the same chapter I introduced them. Hope you liked it :) let me know!
> 
> Thanks so much for your continued, awesome support, and I hope you liked it :)


	22. Chapter 22

“Well, hi, Cub,” Eagle said as the four of them were about to leave (ironically). Bear had finally hooked me up to the oxygen, and I was sitting up (after a lot of huffing and puffing and help), the blanket pulled up to my chest to cover the scars. Lion was standing at my shoulder, his stance tense. I supposed he didn’t quite trust K-Unit yet. “Fancy seeing you after all these years.”

I gave him a tense smile from behind the mask. “You too.”

They’d hung around for a little while longer, trying to reconcile what they knew about the situation without giving anything away. I dozed for a little while. Lion stuck close by most of the time; I had a feeling that would be the norm for the next few days. He didn’t really like letting me out of his sight. Though it was…a little smothering, it was also…really nice to feel protected.

Bear and Wolf had almost gotten into a shouting match, which, in any other situation, would have been absolutely hilarious. Wolf had argued that I should be in hospital, quite passionately. I was almost touched. Bear had argued that he was perfectly capable of looking after me, and that I didn’t want a hospital, not with everything going on.

He refused to elaborate, which just made Wolf angrier, and refused to settle down until Snake offered to check the bigger wounds to make sure everything was in order. Bear didn’t look thrilled, but it appeased Wolf, so he put up with it. I made sure to keep most of my scars covered with the blanket, and he gave Wolf the all-clear. Wolf crossed his arms over his chest and muttered something. I was glad I couldn’t understand it.

Other than that, though, we got on well enough. They mostly gave me space, though Fox pestered me a little more. Otherwise…it wasn’t horrid.

“So…must’ve been weird when we talked by the lake,” Snake said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

I smiled a little more genuinely, trying not to laugh. “It was. I was…worried you’d recognize me.”

“Well, I thought you looked a little familiar—”

“Oh, come off it,” Wolf grumbled. “You have the memory of a goldfish. You’d barely remember what we looked like if you didn’t see us every day.”

Eagle laughed as Snake blushed, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “He’s right, mate. You’d forget your own name given the chance.”

Fix grinned, shaking his head. “We’ll let you get some rest.” He gave Lion a tepid smile, and Lion nodded. “Sorry to meet on…awkward terms.”

Lion hesitated, then nodded again with a small smile. “You as well. We’ll get together sometime soon, when Jag’s a little healed up.” He put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, and I instantly felt calmer.

“You want anything to drink for the road?” Bear asked from the kitchen. Tiger really needed to eat something, so Bear had made something quick in the microwave. “We’ve got coffee and tea. Water, too.”

“We’re fine, thanks,” Wolf said. He glanced at me. “Heal up. Weird to see you again. Not too horrible, though.”

I smirked. “Careful. You might start…to sound human.”

He finally smiled, eyes lighting up. “Wouldn’t want that. Later, Cub.”

Eagle waved and Snake nodded, but Fox stuck around for a minute. He glanced at Lion. “Could I have a minute?”

Lion’s eyes narrowed, and he glanced at me. I nodded slightly, minding my throat, and tried to give him a reassuring smile. He sighed, not looking happy, but tousled my hair and went towards the kitchen, sending Fox one last look.

Fox pursed his lips a little, and I fought the urge to laugh.

He sat in the chair by my head. He smiled softly, but his eyes were worried. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

I nodded. “Me too.” I wasn’t sure how truthful it was, but…for the moment, it was true enough.

He looked down, folding his hands together between his knees. “Who…who really did this, Alex?”

After a second of searching his downcast eyes, I looked up at the ceiling. “…an assassin.”

Fox glanced up, and I could tell, even in my periphery, that he was reluctantly unsurprised. “Shit, kid. What’ve they had you doing?”

I shook my head. “I can’t…can’t talk about that.” Not so soon after L-Unit.

Fox took it as me pulling the typical “classified” card, though, and pursed his lips. “You don’t owe them anything.”

I gave him a half-smile. “No. I don’t…d-don’t want to.”

His eyes softened, and he sighed. “Fair enough, I suppose.” He paused, glancing at the kitchen. “What did you tell them? About the attack?”

I shrugged. “The truth. A little, at least.”

This was dangerous. L-Unit knew about SCORPIA, and…and Fox knew about MI6, and my age, and the circumstances. Putting those together without the right context would paint an…an awful picture, and I couldn’t let it happen.

He seemed surprised. “Really?”

I smiled. “I trust them.” I did. I trusted them a lot. I just…I couldn’t make myself divulge everything just yet. I needed time to get used to each reveal.

Fox blinked. “Well…alright. I guess if _you_ trust them, they’re good people.”

I closed my eyes, smiling behind the oxygen mask. “The best.”

I heard Fox huff a quiet laugh. “That’s good. I’m glad you’ve found them, then.”

“Me too.” There was absolutely no hesitation on that one.

He patted my shoulder, and I opened my eyes a little to watch him go, feeling exhausted. “I’ll come back soon. I want to talk to you some more. I want to know what’s going on.”

I felt my heart pound a little faster, but nodded slightly. I supposed…Fox knew the big stuff. The worst stuff. Maybe telling him could be a…a practice run of sorts, for L-Unit. “Okay.”

“Get some sleep,” he said. “You look like you need it.”

I quirked half a smile and let my eyes close, leaning back against the sofa. I was still in pain, physical and otherwise, but it didn’t seem so bad now.

Lion came back after he’d seen Fox out. “Tiger’s gone to bed, and Bear’s making you some broth. Think you can take some?”

I hummed without opening my eyes, unwilling to leave the blissful warmth of waning consciousness.

“Jag?”

I hummed again, a bit more aggressively, hoping that it conveyed my utter exhaustion and frustration.

It must have, because he chuckled. “Fine. I’ll wake you in a little while.”

As I was dozing off, I felt him gently push the hair back off my forehead. “M’glad you’re still here, squirt.”

I couldn’t tell if I smiled or not, but it made me happy all the same.

…

The next day, I felt a good bit better.

I had a feeling my physical injuries, while severe in their own right, had been somewhat exacerbated by the emotional turmoil wreaking havoc on my mind. Now that at least a little bit of it was sorted, I felt a little better. The swelling in my—well, everywhere, really—had gone down some, due to Bear’s vigilant ice packs. I could see out of both eyes, now, and breathe deeply.

“Well, it’s not infected,” Bear said as he cleaned the bullet wound. “That’s good, especially after the sepsis scare.”

I was propped up on the couch (finally dressed, thank God) against a pile of pillows, under a couple blankets. I hummed in acknowledgement.

Lion was at church, and Tiger was running some errands, finally having recovered from being partially exsanguinated. Apparently we were down to nothing but frozen dinners and some rotten eggs, which wouldn’t make the best meal, in my opinion. Bear and I had been watching the tellie in companionable silence before the timer went off, indicating a bandage change.

“How’re you feeling?” He asked, glancing at me as I hissed in pain at the antiseptic. “Sorry.”

I shook my head, indicating that it was fine. “A lot better. Um…my throat doesn’t hurt as much.”

“Good. I was worried about the swelling,” he admitted, glancing at it. “You’ve got some pretty bruising, but it looks better. How long was he—” Bear paused. His eyes darkened, and he looked away, shifting. “How long was he…choking you?”

I hesitated, thinking back. Flashes of steel and lines of blood filled my mind, and I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. “Not long. Maybe…I dunno. A minute or so. Only with one hand.”

Bear nodded. “Okay. Anymore than that and I would’ve been a lot more worried.”

I glanced away.

He finished with my leg and moved onto my side, and I shifted, blushing in familiar humiliation as I lifted up my shirt to reveal my scars.

“I know Lion already talked to you,” he said hesitantly, pouring peroxide onto the cloth in his hand, “but I’m going to do it, too. And I think Tiger wants to, later. What the hell were you thinking?”

I shifted, resisting the urge to sigh in frustration. “I’m tired, Bear.”

“Well, that’s too bloody bad, because I’m tired, too.”

I felt my face screw up in frustration and repressed anger. “Like you said, I already talked to Lion.”

“You didn’t talk to me. And I’m pissed.” He paused. “And…and _hurt_ , mate. And worried. And…pissed some more. God, what—you know, just…you’ve done enough talking. I know you’re tired, so just listen.

“When I was fourteen, I told you, I made a big mistake that got me shoved into therapy. I was…angry, and I repressed it, and I hung out with the wrong crowd. I didn’t tell you what the mistake was.” He took a deep breath, and I waited, my heart thudding in anticipation. “I…I overdosed.”

I blinked, not having expected that. Not from…not from Bear, the joyful medic who turned into Mr. Hyde when one of his unit was hurt. Not from him. “What?”

He nodded, dabbing at the wound on my side with careful precision, his eyes far away. “On heroin. The guys I ran with…well, they didn’t give a shit about me, to be blunt. I only liked to think they did, and I think I knew that. They’d just gotten a new stash in, and one of them joked that I should try some.”

He blinked rapidly, looking away. “I didn’t know what it meant. I was fourteen and stupid, and I wanted to do anything I could to feel…you know. Accepted. I thought it was just going to make me dizzy, or floaty, or something. One of the older kids got my syringe ready, and they were being careless. They gave me too much.”

My heart hammered, and I had to remind myself that he was here, in front of me, and alive and okay. I resisted the urge to reach out and poke him in an effort to further reassure myself, instead letting him continue.

“Once they realized what’d happened, I was…well, I was past gone. They got out of there as quickly as they could. Didn’t call an ambulance, didn’t tell me what to do…just…kind of left me for dead, you know?”

They were lucky this was almost a decade ago and that Bear probably didn’t remember their names. I was on the verge of being livid, once I pushed through the horror. I knew what it was like to be left alone to die.

“Somebody happened to pass me, and they had a medical background. Just…sheer luck. Pure coincidence. They stabilized me and called someone, and I woke up after they’d pumped me full of Narcan and fluids. My dad was crying.”

He sat back, eyes dark and angry. “I was so mad at myself, and at them, and…the anger was just…boiling, you know? And I yelled at my dad and the doctors and the therapists until one day…I dunno, mate. I just got tired of yelling. I got tired of being angry.”

Bear sighed, and I kept quiet, afraid to break the moment. “Heroin _sucks_. One hit and you’re addicted. Obviously, I wasn’t allowed any more of it, so the withdrawals were awful. And they made me even more irritable and angry than I already was. So I’d spend entire days and nights in the bathroom, feeling like my insides were being ripped out. And I’d be, just… _screaming_ at my dad. I treated him so badly. And he’d sit with me the whole time, no matter what I threw at him.

“I didn’t deserve him at all, and he _definitely_ didn’t deserve me. I was an ungrateful piece of shit after all that. And…” He shrugged, a faint, bitter smile on his face. “I never got as close as you, but during some of the…the bad nights, I did think about ending it. I thought about going to find some heroin and shooting up and slipping away on the high. It sounded good. And…then I let people help me, and I got better.”

The revelation was beyond shocking, and I felt my eyes widen, and my gut twist.

Not Bear. Not…I couldn’t reconcile the black thoughts in my mind with…with _Bear_. Who was so kind and supportive and _funny_ and _happy_. Who was the first one to really reach out to me, and who sat with me after my nightmare and didn’t judge me when I cried or when I sat huddled against the bathtub shaking. Who…who was the first one in a long time to…to really give a shit.

He glanced at me. “I know what it feels like, a little. To think no one’s on your side. To think there’s nothing left. It’s going to be hard, Jag. It—it took a _lot_ of extra work to become a medic. I wanted to, since the person who saved my life was an army medic. They were reluctant to trust me around pain medication and stuff, but…” He shrugged. “I worked hard. I worked my arse off.”

He smiled, and patted my shoulder as I stared at him, nausea writhing in my gut. “Look where I am now.” He glanced around, a fond expression replacing the bitterness on his face. “I’ve got an awesome home and my dad and I are good now. Elliot and I were good friends, so much so that…that he died for me, and even though I’ll always, _always_ wonder what I could’ve done to change the situation…I know he did it for me. And I’ve got Lion and Tiger, and I know they’d die for me, and I’d do the same for them.”

He squeezed my shoulder. “And now I’ve got you. That’s only four living people, so…don’t go anywhere. I don’t have a lot of friends. I can’t afford to lose even one. Got it?”

I fought through the shock and the grief and the guilt enough to nod, slowly. “Bear…”

His eyes were shining, and he quickly looked away, standing. “Yep. That’s enough of that.” He turned away, rubbing at his eyes in one swift motion. “God. Took me ages to tell Lion and Tiger about that. Took you two months. See? Special treatment. Don’t abuse it.”

He passed me quickly, ruffling my hair in passing, and disappeared quickly into the bathroom. The door shut softly.

I leaned my head back against the pillows.

I was a selfish bastard sometimes.

I closed my eyes, and wracked my brain, and came to a decision.

Bear came back and sat down like nothing had happened, turning on the tellie. “What do you want to watch?”

I shrugged. “Um…I can…” I sighed a little, struggling to find the right words. “I can tell you something. Since…I know that was really hard to…to share.”

God. I sounded like a little kid again. I felt myself blush brilliantly.

Bear glanced at me, eyes drawn in confusion and concern. “That wasn’t the point, kid. I just wanted you to know you weren’t alone.”

I fidgeted. “I know, but…but…I want to…” I struggled, again, to formulate my thoughts, frustrated. “I want to…show you that I…I _do_ trust you. A lot. I really do. I just…it’s hard.”

He eyed me for another miunte, then quietly switched off the tellie and turned to face me. His eyes were open and kind and so _supportive_ , and I didn’t deserve him at all. “I don’t want you to think you have to. But if you want to…I’ll listen.”

I nodded, taking a breath, glancing at the blanket over my legs. “Well…a few years ago…my uncle died.” I swallowed at the words, glancing at the glass table, thinking of my pictures. “Um…did you…did you get my pictures, from the—the bridge? He’s in there.”

My heart ached. Those pictures had been through so much with me, and if—if I’d lost them—

“Oh, shit, yeah,” Bear said, rising quickly as his eyes pinched in realization. “I’m so sorry, Jag, we totally forgot about them. I’ll grab them.”

I felt myself sink in relief, closing my eyes and letting out an exhausted breath. Thank God.

Bear returned a second later with the stacked, neatly banded together, and handed them to me. He sank beside me on the sofa. “We did our best to…clean the blood off.”

Ah. Yeah. That must’ve sucked.

There were splotches of faded pink on the white backs, but the glossy fronts of most of the photos were unscathed. The faded paper print of my mum and dad and me had a red stain on the upper corner, but that was the only significant damage.

“Thank you,” I said honestly, closing my eyes. “These are…really important to me.”

“I noticed.”

I flinched. Yeah, I supposed he had, considering what I’d almost used them for.

I leafed through them once, Bear watching the pictures flutter by, and settled on my uncle. Ian and I had just finished climbing a trail on the Swiss Alps, and we were nestled in one of the upper rocks between two of the peaks. One of the guides had offered to take our picture. I almost didn’t recognize myself.

With a second of hesitation, I handed it to Bear. “That’s me and my uncle.”

Bear looked at the picture and smiled, his eyes fond. “You look happy.”

I smiled, too. “I was. He was great, but he had to travel a lot, for work. He always took me on trips whenever he had free time. We did a lot of stuff together. We were…pretty close.”

Bear looked at the picture for a second longer and handed it back. I put it back and leafed through them again, finding the picture of Yassen. It was a candid shot, and I’m sure if the assassin ever knew my dad had taken it, he’d be livid. But…reluctantly, I was glad to have it. Even if I didn’t know how I felt about him…he was still important. A link to the dad that I never knew. “This is…his name was Yassen.”

I handed it to him, and he stared at it for a long minute. He brows creased. “This is—”

“Russian assassin Yassen Gregorovich,” I confirmed, and he glanced at me incredulously. I quirked a smile at the expression on his face. “Yeah.”

“…I’d ask how you know him, but I know you won’t tell me. Just… _how_? How do you have, like…more stories than, I dunno, someone who spends their life doing nothing but travelling the world and meeting people, or something…”

I laughed a little. “No, he…well…it’s a _really_ long, complicated story, but…he was a friend of my dad’s. He saved my life a few times, and the last time, he…he died for it.” I paused. “And he also killed my uncle.”

Bear glanced up sharply, lips parted in an aborted question.

I gave him a small, bitter smile. “I have…mixed feelings.”

“…I would too,” he said finally, staring at the picture for a moment longer before handing it back to me. “Your family sounds complicated.”

I snorted, and it hurt my nose. “You’ve got no idea.”

I leafed through the pictures again, and it felt _so good_ to have them back in my hands. “These are the only things I…I _always_ make sure to take with me. I always make sure I have them before my gun, before my clothes…they’re…they’re really important.”

Bear nodded quietly. I figured he realized there wasn’t a good response.

I leaned back, my side flaring in pain, and winced. “I… love my uncle, I do. He’s…the only member of my family that I ever had a real relationship with. But sometimes…” I swallowed slightly, wincing again as pain flared in throat, but continued. “Sometimes I hate him. When he died…he left me in…in an _awful_ position. I don’t know if he did it knowingly or not, but…he did. And it led to a lot of really bad things.”

I paused, and Bear continued to listen. “Yassen…I met him shortly after. I didn’t know, at first, that he was the one who killed Ian. He helped me, and…saved my life. Gave me advice when no one else would. He said it was because he didn’t kill children, but…I like to believe it was because he gave a damn, you know? He was the only one who really…acted like he cared, besides my guardian. And I needed that.”

I shrugged, settling back against the sofa, sending Bear a small, embarrassed smile. “I know I probably confused you more than I explained, but…yeah.”

Bear raised an eyebrow. “I’ll say. But…thanks, Jag. I’m glad you told me.”

I smiled. Totally didn’t deserve him.

I told Lion and Tiger the same things when they got home, and I didn’t deserve them either. Tiger was obviously having a bloody hard time tamping down his curiosity, because he asked a lot of questions (most of which I couldn’t answer). After a while, he just stared at the photos, eyebrows drawn in frustrated confusion.

“Yeah, but—but how did they—”

“Tiger, seriously,” Lion said, pinching the bridge of his nose. I had to snort in good humor at the exasperated expression on his face, and Bear laughed. “No matter how many times you ask the same bloody questions, the answers aren’t going to change. Family’s confusing, just…deal with it, mate.”

Tiger looked less than satisfied, but he didn’t press the issue.

…

They finally let me move to the spare bedroom that afternoon. Bear emerged from their supply closet with a pair of old crutches (“ _Screw you, Tiger, I_ told _you they’d come in handy one day”_ ) and basically threatened to fasten me to the bed if I used them for anything other than to go to the bathroom without help.

My side _hurt_ , but I felt a lot better in the bed than the sofa. I noticed that the window had been nailed shut.

Yeah, okay. I deserved that.

I slept for a couple hours, feeling refreshed, and read one of my books for a while. Tiger brought me dinner a little while later; he kept me company while I ate it, which was nice of him. My side ached after sitting up for a little while, so I finally laid back down when I was done, letting out a small sigh of relief.

“Better?” He asked, putting my plate on the nightstand.

“Yeah. Much,” I conceded.

He nodded, glancing around the room. “You haven’t done anything with the room.”

I blinked, following his lead, and glancing around. My duffle was in the closet, and I’d taken out my few clothes and put them in the dresser, but…otherwise, he was right. The walls were bare. I kept my gun in my nightstand drawer, my pictures tucked safely beside it, and I left my books in my duffle most of the time.

I shrugged a little. “I…you know. I didn’t know how long I’d be…staying. And I don’t have a lot of stuff.”

Tiger nodded. “Still. You can do a little bit with it. Have you gotten your paycheque yet?”

“Um…I assume so,” I said thoughtfully. “I haven’t been able to check it. Could I borrow a laptop sometime to see?”

“Yeah, sure,” Tiger said, leaning back. “But once you do, we can take you to get some stuff, if you want. It’s looking like a guest room. Move in a little, geez.”

I didn’t want him to know quite how happy that made me, so I looked down to hide the blush in my cheeks and the smile on my face. “…I’d like that.”

He glanced at me, nodding, looking quickly away. “Um…yeah. I picked something up while I was out, by the way.” I hadn’t noticed the plastic bag at his feet, so I was somewhat confused when he picked it up and set it beside me. “Didn’t have any ribbon. Hope you don’t mind.”

His voice conveyed toneless sarcasm, but I could see the nervousness in his fidgeting hands and his tight shoulders.

I sent him a confused look, then peeked in the bag, hissing as I turned to put it on my lap. I reached in and pulled out a rectangular box.

I blinked. “Tiger…I can’t accept this. Seriously. How much did this cost?”

He’d gotten me a _phone_. And a recent model. He’d also gotten me earbuds to go with it. God, this must’ve cost a couple hundred pounds, easy.

He shrugged. “I got it on sale; it really wasn’t that expensive. You mentioned you missed music, so…yeah. Plus, it bothered me that you didn’t have a phone when you—” He stopped abruptly, cutting himself off, and I looked down. My fingers tightened. “Yeah. It bothered me that we couldn’t call you. So…yeah.”

I was touched. I really, really was. But… “I…still, this is…a lot of money, Tiger. At least let me pay you back when I get some saved up.”

He rolled his eyes. “You git. Don’t refuse a gift. It’s rude.” He paused, searching my face, and sighed. “You can answer a couple questions, if you really want to pay me back.”

I narrowed my eyes. “That’s cheating.” It was hard not to sound like a petulant child.

He smirked. “Take it or leave it.”

The prospect was nerve-wracking, but I also knew that…if I _really_ didn’t want to talk about it, and I said so, he wouldn’t make me. That was enough to put me somewhat at ease. “Fine.”

He paused, then leaned forward. His expression was blank. “Why…why did you seek out SCORPIA? How could possibly think they could help you?” His voice was neutral, and I could tell he wasn’t angry, at least. Just…curious. Maybe a little incredulous.

I’d half expected the question, but it still sent my heart thundering awry. I took a steadying breath.

“I can’t…tell you everything,” I started. He nodded, asking me to continue, and I took another breath. I leaned back. “I…well…I told you about Yassen, and Ian, and…the…rather odd dynamic.” Tiger gave me a reluctant half-smile. “As Yassen died, after he saved me…he told me to go find SCORPIA, and I’d find my destiny.” My mind ached at the memory, and I narrowed my eyes. “He thought he was doing the right thing.”

“How so?”

I shrugged, remembering the quiet words on the man’s bloodstained lips as someone I thought was invincible, unkillable, succumbed to death. “He thought I belonged there. It was…an odd situation. But…he really thought they could help me, and…he’d just died for me. He told me they had answers to questions I’d had for…a long time. So, I…went.”

I admitted it quietly, feeling a little guilty and very embarrassed. _That_ had ended brilliantly.

Tiger, after a second of thoughtful silence, nodded. “Okay. I just…you’re not stupid, kid. And it was a stupid move. I wanted to understand.”

I nodded, too. “I get it. I know it was stupid. They’re a bunch of demented, manipulative arseholes.”

Tiger barked a laugh, clapping me on the shoulder. “I’m glad you feel that way.”

He stood, collecting our dishes. “I uploaded some music, and put in our numbers, but beyond that…go wild. I didn’t know what you liked, so I guessed.”

I looked at the phone, then at him, and smiled. “This means…a lot. Thanks, Tiger.”

He grumbled something and turned away, but I caught the blush on his neck. “Yeah, whatever. Just don’t…I don’t know, hack into the Pentagon, or anything.”

I laughed softly as he closed the door, turning over the box in my hands. It was an older model of the iPhone ( **A/N:** **yes yes I realize these books were published in like 2002 but I’m defenestrating canon bc it’s 2020 and Alex deserves an iPhone for all the shit he’s been through)** , but all I really cared about was that I could use it to make calls and listen to music.

I turned it on and familiarized myself with the setup, then went to the music app and scrolled through Tiger’s selections. I supposed he’d remembered me talking about the music I liked, or he’d talked to Lion about it (because I’d talked to Lion quite a lot about the music I missed) and uploaded a few of my favorite artists. Sabina had made me partial to American music, and I saw a few songs from Green Day, Billy Joel, 5 Seconds of Summer, and Imagine Dragons. I also saw a couple songs by Lewis Capaldi and Ed Sheeran, and a couple other UK artists.

I smiled, plugging in the headphones, hitting shuffle, and laying back.

God, I’d missed listening to music. I’d missed it a lot more than I realized. My right leg still ached considerably, but I tapped my left foot to the steady rhythm, letting my thoughts and anxieties fall away to the thrumming basslines and the even guitar, humming along to the lyrics I knew.

I listened to it until I fell asleep hours later, feeling better than I had in a long time.

…

A frantic pounding on the door woke me in the middle of the night. I barely avoided jumping out of bed in surprise, my side pulling uncomfortably as I hissed in pain. I heard the others sweeping into the hallway as I grabbed my gun from my nightstand.

“Seriously, you always assume the worst,” Bear grumbled, still half-asleep, but he looked somewhat alert. “Just stay down. It’s probably nothing.”

The pounding came again, more insistent this time, and I flinched.

I heard Tiger and Lion shuffling to the front of the flat, and I heard the clink of the chain being undone on the door.

I saw Bear’s eyes widen in surprise and confusion as whoever was at the door started talking. Their voice was low and muted, and I couldn’t really hear it, but Bear didn’t look worried.

I grabbed my crutches and painfully lifted myself out of bed, ignoring Bear’s order to stay put. “Jag, seriously, it’s fine. It’s just some kid. I dunno what he’s saying, but I think he’s just lost.”

Nevertheless, I made my way to the door. “I just want to make sure.”

Bear pursed his lips, but sighed in resignation.

He stepped out of the way to let me into the hallway, where the voices became clearer. I felt my eyes narrow at Lion’s rising voice, but whoever was in the doorway seemed pretty adamant about something.

“—gonna tell you this one more time, you need to _leave_ ,” I heard Tiger say, his voice low and dangerous.

“Not until you give me a bloody answer! Is he here or not?”

I felt my eyes widen and my throat close in surprise and muted dread and reluctant _joy_ , but I managed to get the name out all the same as I stumbled into the hallway, locking eyes with the boy in the door. I’d know those blue eyes and that short frame anywhere.

“Tom?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: *me glowing with pride because I spelled paycheque like a British person*
> 
> Also! HAHAHA TOM YOU SLY BOY. We knew he’d come for his best mate ;)
> 
> Also also. Geez, everybody’s blushing and crying. I swear it’s not a romance. Just…an emotionally trying situation with a bunch of (mostly) grown men who don’t know how to handle their emotions because and I STAND BY IT male mental health isn’t taken as seriously as they need to be please and thank youuuuuuu. 
> 
> ALSO ALSO ALSO PLEASE READ I HAVE A QUESTION: …will you guys get, like…REALLY mad if I deviate from canon and put Alex’s birthday in, like, August / September instead of January / February, which is canon? Like, it’ll work if you’ll just be traumatized or whatever, but I’d prefer to move it. Just let me know! 
> 
> THANKS SO SO MUCH FOR BEING AWESOME AND SUPPORTIVE AND WONDERFUL! Please drop a comment!!!


	23. Chapter 23

**Hello! Disclaimer: I haven’t read the original AR books in a while, and the Alex Rider wiki fandom site was super not helpful for researching Tom’s personality, so I’m…going for it. I’m going for a class-clown nice-guy vibe? That sounds like the Tom I remember, and I feel like that would really nicely complement Alex’s quieter, more private personality. Let me know what you think! Happy reading!**

“Tom?”

My gut dropped in utter shock as I locked eyes with Tom past Tiger and Lion. I felt myself sag onto my crutches as my knees shifted and the blood rushed to my head, but I couldn’t look away.

It had been so, so long since I’d seen him.

Tom’s eyes widened, and all he could do for a few seconds was stare at me, his eyes raking over my broken form, his lips apart in words that refused to come. His hands shook. There was a bruise on his cheek, a rucksack on his back. He looked pale and exhausted.

And then he was dropping the bulging rucksack off his back and literally _ducking_ under Lion and Tiger’s arms, ignoring their yells of alarm, skidding down the hallway, and throwing his arms around my shoulders before I could even process what was happening.

It _hurt_. My side screamed, and my leg couldn’t take the weight, and my hands and wrist were aching. My throat ached. Everything ached.

I didn’t move.

“You _bastard_ ,” he yelled into my shoulder, his arms tight enough to hurt. “You just—you just _cut me off_ and don’t call me for _ages_ , I don’t know if you’re alive or dead or captured or held bloody hostage somewhere, and I don’t know if those bastards have you off on a mission, o-or something worse, and then you—you just _call me_ out of nowhere and tell me you’re bloody dying and that—that I’m an awesome mate? What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?”

The words were shouted and abrasive and angry, _so_ angry, but he was shaking. He was _shaking_ and I’d never seen Tom like this.

“Tom—”

“ _No_ ,” he yelled, and I heard the crack in his voice now. His fingers were digging into my shoulders, and I felt blood leak from one of the smaller cuts on my left shoulder, but I still didn’t move. “No, you don’t get to bloody _do_ that. You don’t—not after everything, everything you told me, everything I did for you and you—you—you call me and—”

His words ended in a choked cadence of pain, and I felt tears pricking my eyes as I carefully wrapped one of my arms around his shoulders, the other balanced precariously on the crutch. “I’m sorry.” My voice was toneless in shock and pain and—and something else, because—because it was _Tom_. And Tom was _here_.

“You don’t get to be bloody sorry,” he said, and the words were almost inaudible. “I thought you were _dead_. All you said was Cookham. Do you have any bloody idea how _big_ Cookham is? And you act like—like I’m just going to accept it and move on? Just say, _oh, yeah, you too, great mate, you_ , and hang up on you and leave you to _die_? You don’t get to die, Alex, you—you son of a bitch, I still can’t believe you did that to me. God, I’m so _mad_ at you…”

I could hear the tears in his voice then, and a wave of soul-crushing, heart-wrenching guilt flooded me as I thought about what would’ve happened if I’d…if I’d succeeded.

What would have happened if Tom had scoured the city, only to turn up at this flat and find out from L-Unit that…that I’d died? That I’d killed myself and he was the last person I’d spoken to, the only one who knew? I couldn’t—I couldn’t imagine how—

The guilt was enough to make my knees weak, and Tom went from crushing me to supporting me. “Alex?” His voice was tight with panic, but I was too busy drowning in my own guilt to hear him.

“I’m so sorry,” I choked out, and I felt—I felt something break. Inside me. Deep, deep inside me, because…Tom knew. He knew everything. He knew about MI6, about Sarov, and Cray and Grief and Sayle, and my crush on Sabina, and how I’d wanted to be a famous football player when I was in primary school, and SCORPIA and Drevin, and my parents, and how I’d kissed Alexa Diaz behind the football bleachers in Year 8, and—and he was the only one, and it felt so _good_ to know that he was still here.

And that I was still here.

“I’m so, so sorry,” I said again, and it was building and swelling, the grief and the agony and the _relief_ , and eventually, we had to sit. My legs wouldn’t hold me anymore, and the bullet wound throbbed. And he sat on the floor of the strangers’ flat with me as I cried, as I cried and I think he cried because I’d almost died and Tom was _here_ and—and…

And it was so much more than just enough.

I continued to pour out apologies, and Tom didn’t tell me it was okay, because it wasn’t, and he knew it, and I knew it. He didn’t let go of me, and I felt him shaking, and I heard him sniffling. And he’d really thought I was dead, and I really thought I was going to die, and—and the full force of that finally hit me when he showed up at the door in the middle of the night, demanding that strangers—trained SAS soldiers—answer his questions, or he wasn’t leaving.

And I wondered how I’d possibly survived the past year without him at my side.

Bear and Lion and Tiger didn’t say a word. They just watched us as we fell apart in their foyer, and I couldn’t even be upset about it.

…

“Jerry says you’re a bloody idiot, and he’s going to deck you next time he sees you,” Tom said as he hung up the phone, accepting the mug of tea from Bear with a grateful smile. “And that he’s glad you’re okay. I didn’t tell him you weren’t, because he’s stressed enough as it is. And I’m going to deck you myself once you’re better.”

I smirked, and my eyes were still itchy and red, but I couldn’t fathom that Tom was sitting with me on L-Unit’s sofa drinking tea. It wasn’t something I’d ever thought would happen. “You’re still living in Italy with him?”

“Mm-hm,” he said mid-sip, pulling back at the steaming heat. “Ow. Shit. Yeah, Mum and Dad are still in the trenches. I actually think they’ve run off two sets of neighbors with their yelling. An idiotic marriage counselor suggested they try working things out, and _that’s_ going well.”

I smiled as I watched him talk, animated and lively, accompanied by gesticulations that bordered on manic. The gestures and his tone and his expressions were so familiar that it almost seemed like nothing had changed. It was nice to know that he could still go from yelling at me one minute to joking with me the next. Our fights never lasted long, and it left a warm feeling in my stomach to know that it hadn’t changed.

I had a distinct feeling I’d be answering for my actions later, but for now, it was…almost normal.

“So you’re the Tom from Italy?” Lion asked from the armchair, yawning. Tiger was sat in the other one, and Bear was leaning against the tellie stand, blinking heavily.

“I dunno what you’ve heard, but it’s probably all true,” Tom said seriously. “You’re Alex’s SAS unit?”

“L-Unit,” Bear said with a sleepy smile. “I’m Bear. I’m the medic. I have to patch him up much more than I’d like to.”

I laughed under my breath as Tom rolled his eyes. “Don’t even get me started. Al’s a trouble magnet like you’ve never seen.”

“Oi,” I laughed, and it hurt, and it felt good. “I’m not that bad.”

“Oh, you lying bastard,” Tiger muttered, glaring at me. “You’ve been nothing _but_ trouble.” Two months ago, the comment would’ve unnerved and annoyed, but all I did was smile. I was glad Tiger and I had come far enough to make that easy.

Tom snorted. “Yeah. What’s your name?”

“Tiger.”

“Ah. Makes sense. Suits you.”

Tiger lifted an eyebrow as Lion chuckled under his breath, stretching again. “I’m Lion. Nice to meet you, Tom.”

“You, too,” he said with a smile. “Sorry I yelled at you. I’m bloody tired and this is, like, the fiftieth flat I’ve been to.”

“Did you plan to check every flat in Cookham?” I asked incredulously, sipping my own tea.

“God, no. I think you forget sometimes that I _am_ street smart. You said you were in Cookham with an SAS group, so I figured you wouldn’t have a house, because you’re rarely in it, so I called all the apartment buildings in Cookham and asked if they had any all-male flats who gave off military vibes. You’d be amazed what people will tell you when you call and say you’re taking a survey for Cambridge’s social science division.”

I almost choked on my tea, I laughed so hard. Tom really didn’t change.

Tom grinned as I continued laughing under my breath, saying, “Yeah, and so I wrote all the locations down. Jerry loaned me money for the red-eye into London, then I took the train here and started checking off boxes. I got this stumbling across what I think was a meth lab,” Tom pointed to the bruise on his cheek, showing it off like a battle scar, obviously very proud of his war wound. “I called the cops on them. Apparently they’d been smuggling drugs out of that dump for years. So I did a service.

“And then I found this one, and Tiger and Lion yelled at me. Sorry for breaking into your flat, by the way.”

Lion waved a hand, smiling as he watched the scene. “Just don’t make a habit of it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Tom said, tentatively sipping his cooling tea. “Al, what’s your code name?”

“Hm? Oh, my SAS codename? Jaguar. They call me Jag a lot, though.”

Tom snorted. “Oh, mate. That’s way too cool for you. You’d be…I dunno, maybe an Owl, or something. You’re always super quiet, but then you say something that just shocks the whole room into silence, and then you don’t know how to deal with the attention.”

I grinned. God, I’d missed Tom. “And you’re the expert on owls, are you?”

“Oh, like you’re the expert on jaguars? Jaguars are _awesome_.”

“And I’m not?”

“You are, and I know you’re too humble for your own good, but I’m not going to let you develop an ego. I’m being a good friend.”

I laughed again, and it was so _easy_. I hadn’t laughed this much in a long time. Since before Jack, since—well, since Tom. “You’re mad, you know that?”

“With pride,” he confirmed, taking another sip of tea. “I’m really glad you’re okay, though. You really scared me.”

I sobered, my smile dropping slowly, and looked down. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m…I’m sorry, mate.”

“You should be. I’m glad you called me, though. Otherwise I probably wouldn’t have seen you until your bloody funeral, and then I would’ve had to die and haunt you forever.”

I smirked, but it was a little more subdued than before. “Sounds like you.”

Silence washed over the room, and Tom took another sip of tea.

“Okay, well, it’s been lovely,” Bear said, stretching his back and stumbling to his feet, looking exhausted. “I’m going to bed. You’ve been keeping me up way too bloody much,” he said with a look in my direction. “Don’t get hurt anymore.”

I smiled, grateful for all his help and support and concern. “I’ll try. Thanks.”

“I second that,” Tiger said. “G’night. Don’t destroy the place, please.”

“Oh, do you mind if I…crash on your sofa?” Tom asked a little hesitantly over the rim of his mug, glancing between the three SAS soldiers towering over him.

Lion sighed, good-natured and patient, and _God_ I didn’t deserve them. “Of course. I’ve never seen Jag laugh this much. We might need to keep you around.”

I blushed, looking quickly away, and scratched my ear. “Geez, Lion.”

Lion laughed, ruffling my hair. “Don’t stay up too late.”

I raised an incredulous eyebrow, but he just smirked before continuing down the hallway.

“Oh, you have a built-in nanny,” Tom said as Lion and the others left. “That’s good. You need some supervision.” He paused, his brow drawing taut in thought. “Speaking of which, what happened to Jack? Did she end up back in America?”

I’d…been expecting the question, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. I shifted, looking down, and set my tea on the ground by the sofa, hissing as my leg and side wounds pulled. “I guess I…I should catch you up, mate.”

And I did. It took…a long time. Well over an hour. I started with Cairo, and Jack, and Tom was shocked into sympathetic silence, unexpected grief stealing his words. I knew he’d really loved Jack. I kept going, telling him about Sabina, and Tom put a hand over his mouth and looked at the blank tellie, white as a ghost. And then I told him about the homeless shelters and how awful it was being alone, and how many times I’d wanted to call him, and how many times I’d convinced myself he was better off without me.

He smacked my good leg, then let me continue.

I told him about the grueling selection process, about L-Unit, about how awful it had been in the beginning and how incredible it was now. I told him about Hollis, and Tom’s eyes clouded with horror and murder before I edged past the subject, and then I told him about the sepsis and the conversation in the hospital with L-Unit, including how I’d mentioned him.

I continued on to tell him about my recovery here, and how much I’d gotten to know L-Unit. I told him small things about L-Unit. I didn’t want to spill their secrets or compromise their trust in me, so I kept the private things private. Instead I told him about what an amazing Lion leader was, and how I wanted to be something like him in time. About how he’d been so amazing and supportive and kind.

I told him about Tiger, and how I’d punched him in the jaw at the beginning, and how we regularly got coffee and talked about nothing, now. I told him about Bear, and how he’d been so helpful after my nightmare and during our time in that dirt cellar, and how he went to the youth center all the time. I told him about how much I’d come to cherish them and this place, and Tom smiled.

And then I told him about K-Unit. I laughed when he scowled, remembering all too well my less-than-stellar description of them after my first round at Brecon Beacons, but he was pleased to hear they’d grown up some. I wouldn’t be trusting them with much, other than Fox, but…at least we had somewhere to start, and that was enough for now.

I paused, then, and worked up the nerve to tell him about the SCORPIA assassin and…and my thoughts after receiving the letter. The words came quickly, and I rushed to spit them out before I could change my mind, picking at the hem of my oversized t-shirt and looking resolutely at the blanket in my lap.

I paused again, glancing up when he didn’t say anything. His eyes were blank, and Tom was…well, he was one of the most expressive people I knew. Seeing his expression so blank was…unsettling.

“You tried to…to kill yourself?” He asked quietly, his eyes narrowing the slightest bit.

I took a settling breath, nodding once. “I…I thought about it. And then I was going to, but…” I smiled a little, remembering the irony. “I was…hurt too bad.”

“And you called me to…”

I shifted. “I knew that…that no one would know to tell you, that I was gone. And I figured…I’d left you hanging long enough. I’m really, really sorry, Tom. I didn’t…I didn’t want to die, I think. I think I just…” I hesitated, shaking my head and pushing my bangs back. “I just wanted it to…stop. I was tired of running, and I was afraid I’d have to…to run again, after the assassin. I’m still afraid I’ll have to. But…”

I shrugged, glancing over my shoulder at the hallway, smiling. “I don’t know. I don’t think they’re going to let me. I don’t think you are, either.”

“You bet your arse I’m not,” Tom said, his voice thin and watery and uncertain. “ _Al_. Why did you—why did you let it get so bad? Why didn’t you call me?”

He echoed his words from that night, and I shrugged, guilty and uncertain and nervous. “You got shot, Tom. That’s not…that’s not something you just forget about.”

“…so? Chicks dig the scar. I can’t tell you the number of girls’ phone numbers I’ve gotten from this thing.” He patted his left leg just above his knee. His smile was much dimmer than usual.

I smiled a little, too, but we both knew he didn’t have anything to refute my statement. “I dunno, Tom. I just…after Jack and Sabina…it seems like I’m not really meant to have…have those things, you know? A home, and…and family.”

“Stop right there,” Tom said, eyes narrowed and resolute, a complete shift from the uncertain kid he’d been just seconds before. “If you need to, you can _always_ come stay with me and Jerry. That’s a home. Literally, you clueless, ignorant bastard. And…and I feel like I graduated from friend when I, you know, helped you BASE jump into a terrorist cell.”

I smirked, but my mind was reeling from the words, because…Lion had said them, a variation of them, but coming from Tom…they just meant a lot more, because Tom _knew_ what he was signing up for, and he was offering to anyways.

Tom glanced at the pictures on the wall and looked around the living room. “Plus, they seem like really cool blokes. Super badarse. And they seem to care a lot about you, and you seem really attached to them.”

I smiled. “Yeah.”

“Yeah. Case in point. You need to get it through your thick, idiotic skull that you don’t get to choose whether we’re in your life or not. I feel like I proved that. And next time you want to ghost me, Alex, I’m actually going to turn you _into_ a ghost.”

I laughed, feeling warm, and…and loved, and…happy that I was alive. Truly. “How long did it take you to come up with that?”

“Oh, you don’t understand,” he said, raising a hand in testament, readjusting himself. “I spent the entire 3-hour plane ride and then the 2-hour train ride drafting the eulogy I was going to read at your funeral after I murdered you. That was, maybe…I dunno, forty minutes in. I got creative after that.”

I grinned, and it felt _so_ amazing to just be able to…talk. To talk properly and not have to worry about what was being said, or what I was giving away, or how much I was letting slip. To talk and know that Tom knew it all, and he would accept it all, and he would remain there after I’d said it all.

Tom was…well, he was Tom. And…once again, I didn’t deserve him at all.

“…thanks a lot,” I said quietly, nudging his knee with my foot to get his attention. “For coming. For…for being willing to come out here in the middle of the night and…and literally search _Cookham_ for me.”

Tom paused, glancing at me, and rolled his eyes. “Please, Al. If I’d made that call to you, you’d’ve stormed Naples with representatives from ASIS, the CIA, MI6, India, the SAS…mate, you would’ve brought the UN down on that city to find me. I know you would’ve.”

I shifted, blushing, but he wasn’t wrong. Had our roles been reversed…I would’ve torn Naples apart.

“I wasn’t going to leave you on your own,” he said, his tone rigid in finality. “Not a chance. And I’m not going to do it now, so…so you can’t leave. Going AWOL or…or dying. Promise me, right now.”

I looked at him, and his eyes were unusually dark, absolutely serious, and afraid. Fear boiled behind the steel in his blue eyes, and I realized he was very, very serious, and…and it felt so good to know that he still cared that much.

I’d met Tom when we were eight. I’d stumbled across him as he was being mercilessly teased by three eleven-year-olds. I was quite small for my age, but Tom was tiny—he had no chance. I’d started karate at five, so I knew a few things, and…well, I really couldn’t leave him there.

I’d stepped in, shown off a few karate moves on one of the bigger boys, which had sent him straight into a fit of tears. He’d limped off with his two friends. Tom had been resolutely fighting back tears, but he looked…somewhat awestruck, and it’d made me uncomfortable. I soon discovered that it was his first day at my school, and he happened to be in my class. I offered to walk him, and asked him if he liked football.

Eight years later…he was making me promise not to die. Not to leave. Not to give up. Sitting on a stranger’s sofa, burdened with the knowledge of everything that I’d been through, and he was still here.

I supposed it only fair that…that I stay, too.

When we were ten, we’d quickly decided we’d be best mates forever. Unfortunately, the phrase was far too girly to be acceptable, so we put the sentiment into a handshake of sorts. We’d slap our right hands together twice, bump our fists together sideways, and then touch our third and fourth fingers to our palms (as our mutual favorite superhero was Spiderman).

We hadn’t done it in years, quickly outgrowing the childish routine. However, I smiled a little, and put my hand out.

Tom’s eyes lit up with a mischief I’d missed, and he knew exactly what to do.

I laughed at the end, the routine bringing me back to much happier, much simpler days, when my biggest worries were of whether or not Jack would burn dinner or Ian would be home when I got there. When Tom and I would spend hours in the park with our other friends, playing footie or snooker at the local recreation center.

The routine was my answer, and Tom knew that.

“Thanks for being here,” I said, smiling, wondering again what I’d done to deserve him.

He shrugged. “Where else would I be?”

And it was such an easy answer, and…and God, I’d missed him.

We talked long into the night, about Tom’s life for the past year, about what I might do now that SCORPIA knew where I was, about the girl Tom had his sights on, about his parents’ divorce, about how L-unit didn’t know my age, and what I’d do after they found out. It was an eclectic conversations that, out of context, would have seemed to come from utterly mad participants.

But it was easy, and…and so much more than enough.

…

“Alex. Oi. _Alex_.”

That was unpleasant. For once in my life, I was enjoying a dreamless sleep.

“Al. I’m bored, mate. Come on.”

Hazily, dredging my mind completely from the bliss of sleep, I opened my eyes.

“I hate you,” I mumbled, putting my pillow over my head so I didn’t have to see or hear Tom anymore.

“I’m bored, and I’m your guest. Entertain me.”

“You’re bloody old enough to entertain yourself.” I wondered if he understood from underneath the pillow. It was a tossup.

He took the pillow, despite my adamant resistance, and tossed it to the foot of the bed. “I made breakfast.”

“And we’re not all dying of smoke inhalation?” I asked incredulously, levering myself up carefully, hissing at my stitches pulled. “Ow, _shit_.”

Tom paused by the door, looking back. His eyes were worried. “Are you okay?”

I waved a hand, carefully lowering my injured leg to the floor before grabbing my crutches. My knuckles and wrists hurt like hell, but I wasn’t going to spend two weeks in the bed, so this was my only other option. “I’m fine. Just got…well, kind of stabbed. But only a little.”

Tom looked at me with absolutely no reaction, blinked, and looked at the ceiling, a long-suffering sigh falling from his lips. “Give me grace. Bloody hell, mate, did you turn into a bulls-eye when I wasn’t looking?”

I shrugged, smiling a little. The familiar banter was nice, and easy. “Are the others awake?”

“Lion and Tiger are,” Tom said, waiting for me as I limped over to him, watching me like a hawk as I made my way carefully down the hall. “Or Danny and Sam. That feels better than calling them animals.”

I laughed under my breath. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to think of them as anything but Lion and Tiger, but knock yourself out.”

“Morning,” Tiger said over his coffee, watching the tea kettle expectantly.

“Morning,” I said, wincing as I lowered myself into a chair, lifting my bad leg onto the other open chair for elevation. “Tom said he cooked. Are you feeling poisoned yet?”

Lion laughed a little from behind the newspaper, folding it up as Tom crossed to the stove to finish with something. “No, it was actually pretty good.”

“Hm,” I said dubiously.

“I get up and slave away in the kitchen for you and you can’t even be impressed,” Tom said as he put a plate in front of me, complete with scrambled eggs and toast with jam. “I’m slathering everything in butter from now on.”

I scowled. He knew I didn’t care for butter. “Arse.”

“Eat and be grateful.”

I sighed, and did. Honestly, it wasn’t too bad. The eggs were the slightest bit runny, and the jam-to-toast ratio was a bit questionable, but it was…pretty good.

“Okay,” I mumbled through a bite of toast. “I’m impressed. I thought I’d be swallowing egg shells, to be honest.”

Tom rolled his eyes, sitting down with his own plate. “Ye of little faith. How do you stand him?”

Tiger snorted. “I wonder sometimes.”

I smiled through my bite of eggs, glad that Tom was getting on with my unit. I wasn’t worried, really—Tom could get on with just about anybody. I’d always been more reserved, preferring to have a small circle of close friends, so I was never wildly popular. I wasn’t overtly disliked by anyone (to my knowledge) until the “druggie” rumor started floating around, but I wasn’t much for the spotlight.

Tom could strike up a conversation with a mute and carry it all on his own, if you let him. I couldn’t remember him ever meeting anyone that he hadn’t gotten on with, at least at first. His quick humor and comedic nature, coupled with the fact that underneath all that he was…genuinely really kind, made every feel at ease around him.

I’d really missed that.

“Alex,” Lion said, startling me from my thoughts as I polished off the milk, glancing at him. “D’you mind if K-Unit comes over this afternoon? They texted this morning. Wolf and Fox really want to check on you, and they want to try to get to know us as a unit.”

He glanced at Tom. “But if you’d rather wait, that’s fine.”

“Oh, the famous K-Unit?” Tom said before I could even open my mouth. “No, they’re coming over. I have a lot of choice words for those bastards.”

Lion blinked, obviously not having expected that, and Tiger shot Tom an affronted look on their behalf. I pinched the bridge of my nose, sighing. “Tom, you—you have the social skills of a politician, and then you turn around and say something like that, and I’m reminded that you probably have no idea what the word _tact_ means.”

Tom shrugged. “Best mate, you should really be used to all the contradictions in my personality by now.”

“I’m—I’m lost,” Lion admitted, glancing between me and Tom. “Did we miss something?”

At the same time I opened my mouth to tell them they hadn’t missed a single thing, Tom said, “Oh, when Alex went to Brecon Beacons the first time, K-Unit were a load of arseholes to him. Seriously. They sucked.”

“ _God_ , Tom,” I muttered, dragging a hand down my face.

“What? You said they knew!”

“You didn’t have to embellish it!” I took a deep breath. “Seriously. We’re fine now. Eagle and Snake really ignored me, for the most part, and so did Fox. I got to know him better…later. Wolf, too. Wolf was kind of an arsehole, but I got him back, and now we’re even and on good terms. Really. There’s no problem.”

I wouldn’t be spilling my life story to them anytime soon, of course. I didn’t trust them much as a unit, save Fox. But…working with them, I could probably handle.

Tiger eyed me dubiously, but Lion’s eyes were overtly suspicious. “No, I don’t like that they didn’t treat you well. I don’t want you to have to work with them if you’re not comfortable with it.”

“I was kind of dropped on them without warning,” I provided, feeling my face heat and my heart race. I put my hands under the table to hide the shaking. I didn’t like where the conversation was headed, and made a mental note to murder Tom later. “Seriously. We really are fine now. Promise.”

Lion still looked dubious, but I thought some of it may be because he and Fox hadn’t gotten on right away. “Fine. If you’re uncomfortable, let me know, and we can push it back.”

“Oh, I like you,” Tom commented, taking a bite of toast. “Thanks for forcing him to acknowledge that it’s alright to be uncomfortable.”

I put my head in my arms on the table. They were ganging up on me, now.

“My condolences, Jag,” Tiger deadpanned, rising when the tea kettle finally started to boil. “I guess you have three mothers now.”

Wonderful.

…

Tom, still jetlagged and horribly exhausted from his trek around the city, crashed in Elliot’s room a little while later for a nap. Bear, once he’d finally gotten out of bed, had gone to the youth center for a basketball game between two of the Year 11 teams, and Tiger had some errands to run. K-Unit would be coming for dinner later that night, and for some reason, no one in this flat ever seemed to be able to make a decent grocery run. We’d probably end up getting takeaway, anyways.

I was dozing on the sofa, still exhausted from my injuries and the lingering effects of the sepsis, when I heard Lion sit in the armchair. I blinked awake, stretching as much as I could, wincing at the movement. “Hey.”

“Morning,” he chuckled, taking a sip of soda. “How’re you feeling?”

I shrugged, settling back against the sofa and adjusting my propped leg, hissing at the pain. “In a good bit of pain, but it’s getting better.”

He nodded. “Good. I cancelled your therapy and PT appointments for the next couple weeks.”

“Oh, thanks,” I said, surprised. I’d completely forgotten about those.

Lion nodded again, glancing out the window. “We need to…figure out what we’re going to tell the Sergeant. Bear swears you’ll be cleared for active duty by late January, even with the new injuries, but I want to make sure you can have more time if you need it.”

I blinked slowly, glancing at the table, and felt my eyes narrow in worry. “I’m not really…really sure what to tell him.”

“Well, we could always say you were mugged,” he said, pausing. A small smile curled his lips, and he glanced at me. “You know they’d almost fired the Sergeant six times?”

I blinked. That was…a really high number for such a high ranking government official. The Sergeant of the SAS had almost as much power as the Deputy Head of MI6. “That’s ridiculous. Why?”

Lion chuckled, obviously remembering something. “They say—despite his hardarse exterior, of course—that he cares too much about his soldiers. Those times he almost got fired, he was breaking protocol or keeping secrets to make sure his soldiers were alright. He always puts them above the mission, and the brass doesn’t like that.”

I looked at him intently, and I could already see where this was going. I absently rubbed the bullet wound on my leg, the ache grounding me to the present. “I don’t know if I can tell him, Lion.”

He nodded. “You don’t have to, but…it’s an option. I can almost guarantee that he’ll know what to do. Or at least, he’ll try to support you.”

I smiled absently. From what I remembered…well, the Sergeant hadn’t been too bad the first time I’d been there. He’d been tough, sure, but no tougher on me than the other soldiers. And I was ninety percent sure he’d let me pickpocket that box of matches.

“…I’ll think about it,” I conceded, knowing I’d probably never have the courage to talk to the Sergeant about any of this, but knowing that the answer would please Lion.

“That’s all I ask. Until then, we’ll just…say you were mugged, and you didn’t want to file a report. Sound okay?”

“He’s going to be suspicious.”

Lion raised an eyebrow. “Everything about you is suspicious. This will be another grain of rice in the bowl.”

I scowled, but knew he was right, and acquiesced.

“You seem a lot better,” he mentioned quietly, looking at me intently.

I shifted under his gaze, but smiled a little. “I…haven’t seen Tom in a really long time. I forgot how much I…you know. I really missed him.”

Lion smiled. “He’s good for you. I’ve never seen you smile this much.”

I laughed a little. “Yeah, he…he can make anybody laugh. He’s a little more honest with me, just because I know him so well, but…but with everybody else, I rarely see him _not_ smiling. And he’s hilarious. He made Ian laugh a lot after he’d been around a while. Ian didn’t laugh much, unless it was with me and—”

I stopped, the name dying on my lips, and looked away. Pain flared in my chest, and I took a deep breath, feeling my cracked ribs protest. “…and Jack. I haven’t…told you about her yet.”

Lion’s face was intrigued, but his eyes were calm. “Do you want to?”

After a second of hesitation, weighing my options and taking stock of my mentality…I shook my head. “Not…not now. Soon.”

Lion nodded, smiled. “Okay then. When you’re ready.”

I smiled gratefully, leaning back against the sofa. “Thanks.”

There were a few seconds of silence, and I relished the knowledge that Tom was just a few meters away. It was a surreal feeling, even after having him here for so many hours, and…and I could get used to it. I knew he wouldn’t be able to stay, but…I supposed I…I could talk to him again. Call him, and text him. Maybe visit, if things ever settled down.

It felt like so many doors had been opened, and the future looked just a little brighter.

“He’s really small for a nineteen-year-old,” Lion commented absently, glancing towards the hallway.

That was good. He missed the look of panic the contorted my features before I got a handle on things, remembering that Tom and I had planned for this question.”

“He’s almost seventeen,” I provided, which was true. His birthday was five months before mine, and he turned seventeen in March. “I got held back, so I was a year above him in school. We were on the football team together, and I set some bullies straight for him on his first day.”

I hoped the lie was believable. I hated lying to Lion, but…well, the alternative was much more debilitating.

“Oh,” Lion said, looking satisfied.

My gut writhed. Too easy. The lie was bitter.

But it was one crisis averted, and I wasn’t going to complain.

I heard Tom come out of the room a few minutes later. Lion had turned on the tellie, and we’d been watching in silence; Tom made enough noise for a hoard of elephants, and made himself known as soon as he stepped into the living room.

“Al, the next time you make me search a city for you, I’m going to make you stay up for forty-eight hours and you tell me how it feels,” he griped, plopping next to me on the sofa. “You suck.”

Lion chuckled as I rolled my eyes. “You know my record is three days. That’s easy.”

Tom pursed his lips. “Then I’m going to make you run a marathon and _then_ stay up for two days.”

“I’m quaking.”

Tom yawned and shoved a hand through his spiky hair, looking utterly exhausted. “Is K-Unit here yet? Because after I yell at them, I’m going back to sleep.”

“You’re not going to yell at an SAS unit, Tom. They could snap you like a twig.”

Tom glared at me. “Please. They have to catch me first.”

I laughed, and Lion laughed, having been listening. And it felt like my worlds were colliding in an earth-shattering, devastating collision, and when the dust and ash finally settled…it felt like something new had been made. Something…something good.

Because if Tom was my past, and Lion and L-Unit and maybe even K-Unit were my present…well, the future didn’t look so bleak anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi um where can I buy a Tom I need one. Everyone needs a Tom.
> 
> *Oprah: YOU get a Tom! YOU get a Tom!*
> 
> Hehe yeah anyways. TOM! I hope you love him as much as I do! And Alex the BABY he’s so happy to have his best mate back I loooooooooove them so much. Let me know what you thought!
> 
> As always, you’re all amazing and wonderful and sweet and encouraging. Thanks :)


	24. Special Extra!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So, this isn’t a chapter :( but! I hope you like it anyways! I read a lot of Webtoon Comics, and something I’ve seen a lot of authors do is do little character profiles, and now that we’ve introduced all the main characters, I wanted to try it!
> 
> Hope you like it :) I had a lot of fun with it!!! :D 
> 
> Obviously I made everything up for most of the characters, including K-Unit because there isn’t a lot on them, but some of the Alex and Tom and Ben stuff is from me and some of it is from the Alex Rider wiki site.

**Special Extra!!!**

** Alex Rider / Matthew Smith / Jaguar / Cub **

Age: 16 (but only Fox and Tom know that) / 19

Birthday: August 17th (Leo)

Height: 5’7” (170 cm)

Personality: Quiet and serious, sarcastic, funny if you get to know him; very self-sacrificing, kind, helpful. He’s _super_ protective and ridiculously loyal, but he has trouble with his self-worth and his place in the world

Biggest Flaw: refuses to realize people want to help him; he feels like he needs to keep people at a distance because it makes him feel safer

Likes: traveling, outdoors, football, soft clothes, American music, animals, Coke

Dislikes: MI6 (duh), butter, the dark, small spaces, being alone, spiders, driving (he’s too young but he’s had to before and it’s not his cup of tea), being taken advantage of, guns, his dark hair (he preferred it fair)

Hidden Talents: he’s really good at shooting crossbows; Ian took him hunting with them sometimes

Trivia: he’s onychophagiac (bites his nails), he likes watching documentaries, his favorite color is clear ocean blue

** Tom Harris **

Age: 16

Birthday: March 2nd (Pisces)

Height: 5’4” (162cm)

Personality: He’s always cheerful and super funny, and can get along with anyone he meets. He’s fiercely loyal and will do literally anything for the people important to him. Super loyal.

Biggest Flaw: he has a bad habit of hiding his real feelings because he likes making others feel good, so he often puts up fronts

Likes: football, eating out, hanging out with Jerry, ice cream, rap music

Dislikes: his parents fighting, seafood, bullies, reptiles, when Alex doesn’t talk to him

Hidden Talents: he can shoot football goals with his eyes closed and make most of them even with a keeper in

Trivia: he’s allergic to peanuts, he had a crush on Jack when he was nine, and his favorite color is dark orange; he also doesn’t like the pressure of being captain of the football team, but he stays because everybody says he does a good job, despite that

** Lion / Daniel Walker / Danny **

Age: 27

Birthday: February 21st (Pisces)

Height: 6’1” (185 cm)

Personality: he has a sense of humor, but he’s mostly really sincere and kind. He genuinely wants to help those around him and is incredibly loyal, like Tom (and Alex)

Biggest Flaw: sometimes he can be kind of clingy and insecure because he didn’t have a lot of family growing up, so he’s really attached to the ones he has now (but they don’t mind so it’s okay)

Likes: spending time with his family (L-Unit included), playing sports, going to church, target practice (helps him release stress), Indian food, Chinese food, animals, and surprisingly, classical music

Dislikes: oranges, alcohol, his father (who is a stain on humanity), Thai food, when Alex is being stupid about his self-worth, when his unit is in danger

Hidden Talents: he’s actually really good at the piano; he could never pay for lessons, but his music teacher in high school helped him learn because he had a natural talent for it

Trivia: he loves animals but he’s allergic to cats, not really a fan of heights, favorite color is sky blue, he’s nondenominational and is really intentional about his faith (it really helped him get through his childhood and he’s grown in it now)

** Tiger / Samuel Okinawa / Sam **

Age: 24

Birthday: March 21st (Aries)

Height: 5’10” (177cm)

Personality: he’s really headstrong and abrasive, especially with new people. However, he’s really protective about the people he cares about, but he might actually kill you if you call him out on it.

Biggest Flaw: he has a hell of a temper, but he actually gets maddest when he’s really worried and doesn’t know how to show it, which often leads to misunderstandings

Likes: K-Pop and anime (but he’s super secretive about it and when Bear found out he threatened him into silence), Japanese food (except soba), sleeping, thunderstorms, reading

Dislikes: when Bear calls him a munchkin because he’s short (compared to him), most people, kids (except Jonah), cats (he and Lion get into debates all the time)

Hidden Talents: he’s actually a really good artist, but he’s never had any formal training. He likes to sketch in his free time

Trivia: he doesn’t like cats because when he was five his cousin’s cat bit him and honestly he’s just never moved past it, his favorite color is red (he’s more drawn to lighter reds), and he has a massive sweet tooth

** Bear / Henry Johnson **

Age: 23

Birthday: October 31st (Scorpio) [they did celebrate it but Alex was kind of unconscious so it was lowkey in a hospital room]

Height: 6’3” (192cm)

Personality: is lowkey a flirt and is actually really good with girls because he’s precious, always worries about everyone and gets kind of neurotic when people are hurt, always funny and happy (unless something’s, you know, wrong), generally precious

Biggest Flaw: sometimes when he’s worried, he can be really overbearing and pushy

Likes: soda, Halloween, kids, the people he works with at the youth center, watching the tellie, science fiction (he and Elliot used to have Star Trek movie marathons)

Dislikes: when Tiger calls him a tree because he’s tall, medication, hospitals, when his unit is hurt, studying, reading, being in big groups of people

Hidden Talents: can cheer anybody up in any situation ever

Trivia: he LOVES that his birthday is on Halloween, it’s his favorite holiday; his favorite color is yellow, and he’s allergic to walnuts, and kind of a kleptomaniac

** Raven / Elliot Kirigaya / Ell **

Age: 24 (when he passed away)

Birthday: September 10th (Virgo)

Height: 6’0” (182 cm)

Personality: he’s generally really nice and comedic, and he gets attached to people easily.

Biggest Flaw: he can get kind of insecure sometimes, and sometimes it translates badly

Likes: basketball, American football, music, fire (he’s a lowkey pyromaniac; really liked blowing stuff up in training), hanging out with his friends, reading (he liked audiobooks), exercising

Dislikes: kale (he freaking hated it), watching the tellie, being indoors for too long, shooting (his aim was never great)

Hidden Talents: he played cello really well and he was really good at chess

Trivia: he was a quarter Japanese, but he took his mom’s last name because his parents divorced when he was in uni; Tiger and he have been best mates since Year 8; his favorite movie was _Back to the Future_ and he was a generally huge fan of science fiction; (and he didn’t hate being called Ell as much as he let on)

** Wolf / James san Luca [that’s the name everyone uses for him so I’m going with it] **

Age: 28

Birthday: May 1st (Taurus)

Height: 5’10” (176cm)

Personality: abrasive and loud and generally prick-ish until you get to know him. He’s kind of insecure and he can express it badly sometimes, and he likes to be in charge, but he genuinely cares about the well-being of those under him

Biggest Flaw: well, sometimes he’s an arse. He’s grown up a little, but he still sometimes lets his anger get the better of him

Likes: his unit (even if he doesn’t like to admit it), dirt-biking, camping (but not hiking, even though he’s really good at it), apple pie, alternative music

Dislikes: heights, narcissists, most people (he and Tiger are actually somewhat alike), loud music, sitting around doing nothing, when people are too neat (he actually gets mad when Snake cleans the flat and he can’t find any of his stuff because it’s actually where it’s supposed to be)

Hidden Talents: he’s actually really good at dirt-biking, he was on a team for it in school and won a couple of awards; he’s fluent in Russian and Spanish, and is actually really book smart

Trivia: his favorite color is green (even though he swears it’s black), he doesn’t like being the oldest in his unit, and he went to uni to try for law school, but dropped out to go into the SAS when his cousin was KIA in Iran

** Fox / Ben Daniels **

Age: 24

Birthday: July 12th (Cancer)

Height: 6’0” (182cm)

Personality: he’s really supportive, but he also gets kind of mad when people don’t take care of themselves, which can be a little off-putting; he’s also kind of reckless sometimes, and Wolf gets mad at him a lot. He’s a really kind soul who has a hard time putting his feelings into actions, sometimes.

Biggest Flaw: he has a bad habit of doing things without thinking them through

Likes: electronic music, (secretly) K-dramas, instrumental music, running (it helps relax him and clears his head), Alex (is very protective by nature), his unit, vegetables (Eagle likes to tease him and call him a rabbit)

Dislikes: MI6, Alex’s job, Alex’s secrecy, Alex’s entire handling of his situation, Wolf’s attitude sometimes (even though he likes Wolf), being the youngest of his unit, the fact that he’s still single, fruit (it’s a texture thing)

Hidden Talents: he’s a really good swimmer and can do a 50yd freestyle in under thirty seconds, but he _hates_ the butterfly stroke

Trivia: He never really cared for Mrs. Jones and he _hates_ Alan Blunt, he really likes dancing and often goes clubbing when his unit is off rotation, and he’s a bad drunk (like not _mean_ , just he kind of loses all inhibitions) [this will be a problem later ahem]

** Snake / Kyle O’Reilly  **

Age: 26

Birthday: December 24th (Capricorn)

Height: 5’10” (177cm)

Personality: He’s really quiet and is generally a peacemaker, but he’s a genuinely nice guy. He doesn’t like conflict and tends to put himself in the middle of things to try to diffuse the tension (which sometimes backfires). He’s kind of timid sometimes, but if you piss him off enough, that good old Scottish fighting spirit _will_ smack you in the face. When he drinks too much, he gets really loud and laughs a lot, but he doesn’t like getting drunk. He’s _super_ moral, but he’s good about not pushing it onto other people.

Biggest Flaw: sometimes when he tries to diffuse situations by placing himself in conflicts, he makes it worse and then feels really bad, which makes him want to resolve the situation even _more_ , and…yeah. Vicious cycle.

Likes: instrumental music (he and Fox can really vibe sometimes, which really ticks Eagle off), reading, making lists, going to church, his girlfriend, cleaning, organizing things, reading, studying (wants to get his medical degree after he’s through with the SAS), reading his Bible

Dislikes: conflict, aggression, loud music (he and Wolf stand as a united front when Eagle has the radio), disloyalty, big crowds, outdoors (much prefers to stay in and read)

Hidden Talents: is surprisingly awesome at Scrabble because of how much he reads

Trivia: kind of a neat freak (he likes to color code things and has a place for everything), he’s Roman Catholic, and he’s lowkey scared of dogs (had a bad experience as a kid)

** Eagle / Mason Avaria **

Age: 26

Birthday: November 23rd (Sagittarius)

Height: 6’1” (185cm)

Personality: he kind of uses comedy as a coping mechanism, so he’s really humorous and comedic literally all the time, and his unit calls him kind of immature because of it. Despite that, he really is a really good soldier, and he’s super brave. Also REALLY compassionate and empathetic—when someone _really_ needs to talk, he gets really serious. He also really likes drinking, but he’s a chill drunk.

Biggest Flaw: Sometimes his jokes go a little too far, but he always feels really bad about it afterwards and does whatever he can to correct it. He’s also kind of self-deprecating sometimes

Likes: animals, nature / outdoors, heavy metal music, his girlfriend, camping, fire (also a lowkey pyromaniac), American TV shows, Scotch (and wine), running (helps clear his head; he and Fox go running a lot)

Dislikes: classical / instrumental music (gets really mad when Snake or Fox is in control of the radio), beer, his height (he doesn’t like being the tallest)

Hidden Talents: he’s actually completed three marathons and two half-marathons

Trivia: he’s high key vegetarian and really owns it, he’s a huge animal lover, and he and his girlfriend have been dating for four years (they got together in uni) and he’s kind of considering proposing on Christmas (her name is Evie and she’s a sweetie), he’s Church of Christ

** Jonah Livingston!!! **

Age: 5 (almost 6!!!)

Birthday: December 11th (Sagittarius)

Height: 3’6” (106cm)

Personality: adorable and precious and is to be protected at all costs, is genuinely kind and encouraging to everyone (except Cedric bc he sucks [read down])

Likes: Uncle Danny, Uncle Sam, Uncle Henry, Uncle Matthew, football, the Arsenal team, his parents, playing outside, being read to, taking naps…he pretty much likes almost everything, sugar especially

Dislikes: vegetables, the dark, Cedric (the kid in his class who calls him short), girls (cooties, duh) [but he’s still nice to them because he’s a little gentleman]

Hidden Talents: can hold his breath underwater for forty seconds (is very impressed with himself)

Trivia: he’s really good at card games, he wants a dog named Marshmallow, and he wants to be a soldier like his uncles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Okay, that was so cute and so much fun. I hope you enjoyed it!!!
> 
> I wanted to get this up because I’m not sure when I’ll be able to post again. I’m going to try my best, but I have SO much going on this semester, especially because I have no idea still how COVID is going to impact some of my classes and my job, so…ya know. Anxiety, skyrocketing. 
> 
> But I’m going to try to keep working on this story and my other stories, because I really love it and I don’t want to let you guys down. Thanks so much for all your love and support and encouragement, and I’ll see you soon :)
> 
> PS Let me know what you thought of these little blurbs!


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, we finally got this one out! This was like pulling teeth, but I finally had a spurt of creativity this morning (even though I was totally supposed to be studying for my exam lol). Hope you enjoyed it :)
> 
> ALSO: Okay so I’ve gotten a lot of people say they’d love to read / write fanfiction about this story, and I say…dude, go for it! That would be AWESOME! My only requests are that you give credit to this story, and notify me in a review or PM so I can read it!!!
> 
> Also also: Okay so I just thought of this freaking awesome idea for an Avengers / Alex Rider crossover…so what if, Alex being the obstinate boy he is, continually refuses to work for MI6, so they take matters into their own hands and procure the Winter Solider brainwashing tech and the Avengers…you know…find out??? Can you IMAGINE how unstoppable an Alex Rider Bucky Barnes bromance would be????????????????? Let me know if you’re interested!

**A/N: WE ARE BACK IN BUSINESS GUYS AND GALS AND NON BINARY PALS**

  
  


“What kind of takeaway do you want?” Tiger asked, landline in hand.

“I told you we’d end up getting takeaway,” I commented as Lion rolled his eyes. 

“Well, if anyone knew how to do proper shopping, I’d cook,” Lion complained, side-eyeing Tiger.

Tiger scowled. “Your vote is revoked.”

Tom yawned, looking better, but still quite tired. I supposed he still needed a proper night of sleep. “Um...any good Italian places?”

“Tom, you live in Italy,” I chided. I was still stretched out on the sofa, and Tom had taken the other available cushion. Bear had collapsed in the open armchair soon after getting back, claiming that a dozen demons had run him ragged. Tiger returned not long after that with bleakly empty shopping bags and a deeper scowl than usual.

“Italian cuisine and Italian takeaway are two _very_ different things, my friend,” Tom defended, shaking his head as I raised an eyebrow. “Their pizza is really awful. When you visit, I’ll show you the difference.”

Something warm buzzed in my chest. At least he wanted me to visit. That was something to look forward to, if I ever got the rest of my life sorted. “I’ve been to Italy.”

“Irrelevant.”

“Just order _something_ before I eat one of you,” Bear scowled, the usually eccentric medic relegated to the armchair in a slump of exhaustion. “I’m starving.”

“Italian it is,” Tiger conceded, dialing the number.

“Well, K-Unit should be here soon,” Lion commented, getting up and moving towards the kitchen. “I suppose I should put some tea on.”

My chest thrummed in anxiety at the reminder, but I swallowed it down, turning instead to Tom. His eyes were still heavy with obvious fatigue, but he looked alert enough to stir up trouble. Granted, it wasn’t a high bar, but it made me worry all the same. “You’re not really going to yell at them, are you?”

Tom rolled his eyes. “Well, I haven’t decided yet. I could do that. Or I could passive aggressively guilt-trip them until one of them owns up, and _then_ yell at them.”

I sighed. “Or you could...not say anything,” I pointed out hopefully. “Seriously, don’t stir the pot. We’re supposed to be getting along with them so we can work with them. In the field. On dangerous missions. Rifts won’t do us any good.”

“Well, it’s not _you_ they’ll be mad at,” Tom argued. “I’m defending your honor.”

I dragged my unbroken hand down my face. My nose hurt. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m incorrigible, aren’t I?”

I squinted at him, the word unfamiliar. “You’re what?”

“Incorr--oh, you probably didn’t get to that vocabulary word. It means beyond help.” 

Tom tried to say it casually, waving a hand carelessly for emphasis, but I still felt heat flame in my cheeks, and I hoped I hid it well enough. Luckily, Tiger was still on the phone, and Lion was in the kitchen. I wasn’t sure if Bear heard it or not.

I wondered what he thought it meant. I hadn’t had proper schooling since the first few months of Year 10, and the rest of that and what little I’d had of Year 11 had been absolutely pointless, what with my other duties. My few months of schooling in California had been nothing but confusing, because the curriculum was so different from Brooklands’. I’d told K-Unit I’d joined up so young because I wasn’t cut out for uni—hopefully they took it to mean my GCSEs had been less than stellar.

It was embarrassing, but better than the truth. 

“Oh,” I responded belatedly, shifting a little. Tom’s lack of an immediate answer confirmed what I’d thought—he knew he’d slipped up a little.

I was distinctly aware of my lack of a complete education. I was smart, I knew that, and I was sure given the opportunity I could catch up, but...opportunity was lacking, and I’d be at least two years behind my peers. Knowing that I knew much less than my friend, who I’d always had to help with homework and projects and exam prep...well, it put my situation in perspective, and I didn’t like how it looked.

I cleared my throat, glancing at Bear. He was looking at something on his phone but from his posture, I could tell he was keeping half an ear towards our conversation. “Right, well...that’s certainly a good word for you.”

Tom smirked, his eyes distantly worried, but tried to keep the new direction going. “It is. Jerry actually called me deplorable the other day. I had to look it up. Joke’s on him; I’m getting him a thesaurus for Christmas.”

I laughed genuinely at that, glad that we could move past the topic. That sounded just like Jerry. I was also saved from having to answer by the ringing of the doorbell.

Familiar panic wriggled in my stomach, but I forced myself to take a deep breath, reminding myself that I’d already been through the worst part. Fox and Wolf would keep things under wraps. L-Unit wouldn’t let anything slip about...about what happened. I knew that. I trusted them with that.

It was a violent collision of two worlds...of what felt like two different people’s lives...and it was difficult to swallow. But, I didn’t have a choice, and...things definitely could’ve been worse.

I could get through dinner. Every interaction would be easier. I’d been through a lot worse things than this.

“Showtime,” Tom mumbled. I kicked him with my good leg, ignoring the twinge of pain, but he just sent me a grin.

I sighed. 

I heard the indistinct chittering of blurred voices grow clearer, and then K-Unit was once again in the foyer. It didn’t take long for all their eyes to settle on me.

I waved a little, going for a smile. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Fox said, eyes sliding to Tom, unfamiliarity quickly creeping in. “Um—”

“Oh, wow, the famous K-Unit!” Tom said with stale excitement, leaping from his position on the couch with all the energy of a preschooler. “Wow, you guys are awesome. SAS, really? Can I see your guns?”

Snake had actually taken a step back at Tom’s abrupt approach, eyes pinched in confusion, and Eagle didn’t seem too far behind him. Fox’s eyes were settled questioningly on me, and Wolf’s gaze was pinned right on Tom, seeming too confused to react much. I gave Fox a helpless shrug, desperately hoping Tom wouldn’t do anything too rash.

Tiger watched from the doorway with an amused smirk, having surreptitiously thrown K-Unit to the wolves. Well, this was going to be a disaster. Seemed Tom had gotten the others on his side when I wasn’t looking. 

“Uh--who are you?” Wolf asked, eyebrow raised in confused suspicion.

“I’m Alex’s best mate, Tom,” he explained quickly. “Don’t worry, I know everything, right from the beginning. Which was with you guys! It’s good to know if I ever get dropped in the SAS, some awesome and supportive unit like you will be there to watch my back. Very comforting. I feel safer already.”

I didn’t miss the uncomfortable wince in Wolf’s posture, or the way the other three shifted their eyes to me and just as quickly looked away. I hid a smile behind my hand, watching Tom with something between terror and amusement. 

He was _really_ going to milk this.

“Tom, stand down,” I said, trying to dispel any further conflict. “It’s really fine.”

“What? I’m just introducing myself, Al,” he argued. “That’s common courtesy. The British are nothing if not polite.”

I sighed, my ribs aching. He was going to be the death of me.

“You can come in and sit down,” Bear offered after a beat of silence, and I shot the medic a grateful look. “We don’t have enough chairs, but the carpet’s comfortable enough.”

Oh. Maybe Bear was on edge, too. I scowled.

Tom quickly took the available seat next to me, and I huffed a reluctant laugh.

“How’re you feeling?” Snake asked, clinical eyes scanning my form. 

“A lot better,” I admitted, absently rubbing my wound on my thigh. “Bear’s been keeping all the bandages fresh and everything.” And I was sure the fact that I was in a much better headspace had a lot to do with it. “It’s only been a couple days, but I seriously feel better.”

Snake hesitated, then nodded. “Well, you look better.”

“That’s an understatement,” Eagle commented, taking a seat by the TV stand, as all the chairs were occupied. “You looked like death warmed over when we showed up.”

“I felt like it,” I admitted. In more ways than one. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re doing better,” Wolf said, voice gruff in reluctant relief, which put half a smile on my face.

“Oh, careful,” Tom said as Wolf made to sit down. Wolf sent him a questioning glance, pausing and looking at his feet, where Tom’s eyes had been intently trained just a second before. “Sorry, just making sure there were nothing to trip over, or anything. Trip wires are easy to miss. Carry on. My mistake.”

My eyes went wide, and I was torn between smacking him and laughing nervously. Wolf blinked, then turned quite red quite quickly, muttering something unflattering about Tom’s mother before he sat.

I settled for giving Tom a withering look. “Tom.”

“What?”

“What’d I miss about a trip wire?” Bear asked, suddenly looking much more alert. Carefully blank eyes focused on Wolf, and Wolf stared right back.

“ _Nothing_ , God,” I responded quickly, making a mental note to murder Tom later. “It was during training over a year ago, and everything’s fine now, right?” I looked at Wolf, hoping he’d back me up.

Wolf cleared his throat, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, we’re fine. I made up for it later. Bloody hell, you’re a sentimental lot.”

“What happens in Selection stays in Selection,” Eagle added. “That was such a bloody awful experience. I love tormenting the newbies every year.”

“Oh? I thought you settled for the people inside your unit for tha-- _ow_ ,” Tom said, sending me a betrayed glance. My wounds ached with renewed vigor, but the kick I’d gotten into Tom’s side had been more than worth it. 

“Something you wanna say, kid?” Wolf asked, a hard glint in his eyes as he looked at Tom.

From what I knew of the slightly more mature Wolf, he would never use his training or skills to physically attack someone quite obviously weaker and smaller than himself, as Tom undeniably was. Despite the fact that logically I _knew_ that, something in his eyes still stirred a fierce protectiveness that I hadn’t been able to shake since the assassin’s appearance.

“No, he has nothing to say, so drop it,” I said quickly, leveling Wolf with my own hard look. “He’s just being stupid. Right, Tom?”

Tom sighed, obviously recognizing the approaching end of his tirade. “I’m not being stupid. I’m defending my friend’s honor.”

“I’ve been defended. You’re very noble. You can stop now.”

“Well, I suppose you did get Wolf back. Hey, how did it feel to get kicked out of a pl—”

“ _Okay_. Nice and settled. Glad that’s over,” I said quickly.

“ _What_?” Eagle asked, eyes bright in curiosity. “No, you can’t leave that hanging.” Snake, despite his neutral personality, looked equally interested. Fox was smiling behind his hand. I think I’d mentioned the incident on the plane to him during one of our brief moments of downtime on our mission. He knew exactly where this was going.

“Takeaway should be ready in fifteen,” Tiger said, coming into the living room. He seemed to notice the atmosphere, sending us a questioning look. “What?”

Wolf was looking more than a little put out, fingers thrumming rhythmically on the arm of the chair, and I was torn from laughing in bubbling nervousness and burying my head in the sand in fake ignorance. I honestly didn’t know what the best option was. 

“We were just reminiscing,” Tom supplied, innocent look firmly in place.

I sighed again.

This was going to be a long night.

…

“Dammit, Eagle, this is why we never let you tell stories,” Fox complained, interrupting Eagle’s endless tirade about one of their particularly humorous missions. “Your tangents take longer than the actual incidents.”

I smiled as quiet laughter permeated the space, watching Fox animatedly continue the story about Wolf and a hostage negotiator going at it in Russian while the rest of them actually tried to find a way into the base. Luckily, Snake pointed out, this was in Wolf’s early years, and Wolf had grown considerably.

Wolf rolled his eyes.

They’d been telling stories while we ate for the better part of an hour—K and L units alike. Most of L-Unit’s had involved Elliot, which led to an abbreviated conversation about who he was, quickly rushed and aborted. I glanced covertly at Tiger, whose eyes had found their way to the carpet for a moment.

Despite that, the rest of the night had gone well. The stories had to be censored somewhat, both for security reasons and for Tom’s sake, who’d arguably never been in such a situation (and I bloody well didn’t want to change that) but we mostly stuck to humorous or especially exciting stories.

“That bloody negotiator was an incompetent fool,” Wolf commented. “He was gonna get the hostages killed sooner than the bloody insurgents.”

I smiled as the others laughed at that, blinking thickly and leaning my head back as casually as I could. I was full from the meal, which had been quite good, and I supposed my latest dose of pain meds was finally kicking in. Despite that, I didn’t want to go to bed yet. I definitely didn’t want to leave Tom to his own devices.

“Oi,” Tom whispered beneath the others’ conversation. I glanced at him. “You wanna go to bed?”

Damn. Of course, he noticed.

“No, I’m alright,” I assured, trying to reposition myself to seem more casual than tired. “Just trying to get comfortable.”

He raised a dubiously eyebrow, and I shrugged.

“No, but then Snake started yelling at Wolf just because he couldn’t take any more, and _that_ was a sight,” Fox continued, having steamrolled Eagle’s take on the story after the fourth tangent. “Meanwhile I’m scanning the wall trying to find a chink in their coverage, and Eagle’s trying to snipe one of the insurgents on top of their defenses, and the bloody Americans are _literally_ just watching us fight. Eagle and I ended up getting detained in the base for a few hours, but the bloody idiots couldn’t tell their shoe from their arse. We were out in no time.”

I smiled along with the others, but an uncomfortable pang of irrational fear hummed in my bones at the mention of being captured. Bear’s and my experience was probably far different, but still…I knew the feeling, far too well, and being taken for any length of experience was chilling.

“I certainly hope you’re a little more cohesive now,” Lion broached carefully, still smiling diplomatically.

Snake laughed good-naturedly. “Yeah, we are. That was one of our early days. In fact, I think it was our first mission after Selection. It was just a couple weeks after you left, Cub.”

I glanced over at the name, having to remind myself that yes, he was talking to me. “Yeah. You guys were pieces of work back then. I’m surprised it didn’t turn out worse.”

Wolf snorted. “Speak for yourself. You just get dropped in one day, middle of training, no explanation, and you disappear just as quickly.”

Uncomfortable energy started to buzz around my heart, and I searched for any opportunity to steer the conversation away as naturally as I could. I didn’t let myself glance at the others. “I wasn’t nearly as bad as you. At least I could build a fire in the middle of the bloody Welsh spring. God, it was freezing.”

“Pickpocketing a box of matches doesn’t count,” Eagle commented.

“Wait, what?” That was Bear, whose eyes had slid up into his hairline.

The topic was less than comfortable, but it wasn’t dangerous, so it could continue. “During training, we had this awful nature hike, and when I finally got to the end, the Sergeant and I had something to talk about. I stumbled into him before I made my way up to the others and pickpocketed a box of matches. Good thing, too, because the boy scouts weren’t doing well. I’m almost positive he let me take them, though.”

“Oh, _shit_ , I remember that,” Fox said, eyes wide in remembrance. “I forgot about that. Mate, you jumped twenty points on my scale that day. I was freezing my arse off while this one tried to rub rocks together like a caveman,” he said, jerking a thumb at Wolf.

Wolf scowled, but there was a surprising amount of humor in his eyes. “Well, you didn’t have any better ideas, did you?”

I laughed quietly, the ache worth the feeling of warmth in my chest. This was going quite well, despite my fears. Tom had been listening quietly for the most part, his eyes wide in excitement and awe as the soldiers rattled off impossible stories. I supposed they were a little more exciting than the ones I told him, based solely on the fact that for the most part, they weren’t nearly as nail-biting.

The conversation turned to a bit more graphic, more somber topic—everyone’s oddest kills. While there was still some humor, there was noticeably less laughter, and I felt Tom tense next to me.

I sent him a glance, whispering, “Do you want to leave? Are you okay?”

Tom glanced back, shaking his head. “No, it’s alright. Just…weird. You never take about…this.”

I narrowed my eyes in thought, leaning back and keeping half an ear to the conversation. I didn’t like talking about the people I’d killed, though there were…well, several. That thought alone was enough to make me physically uncomfortable. While I knew, logically, that it wasn’t murder in the line of duty…well, I’d never technically been in the line of duty, had I? It was hard to justify dozens of deaths with my predicaments.

“No, you don’t get it,” Wolf was saying as I tuned back in, staring sightlessly at the blank tellie. “It was actually pretty awesome, even for a shrimp. Cub, tell them about the sleigh mobile at Point Blanc.”

The words “Point Blanc” triggered an undeniably terrifying reaction, because those were words L-Unit didn’t know yet, words I hadn’t wanted them to know yet. Those were from someone else’s world—not Jaguar’s. They weren’t supposed to—supposed to know about that yet.

I blinked a couple time in surprise and panic, trying to rectify the situation with what had just been said, and looked at Wolf. I supposed he knew from the look in my eye that he’d well and truly fucked up, and now I had to get myself out of it.

“Not really something I’m comfortable talking about,” I said once my brain stopped lagging, glancing at the tellie. “I sort of thought we agreed on that.”

“Right, yeah,” Wolf said quickly, trying to hide how flustered he was. “Got excited.”

There was no apology, but I didn’t expect one. Besides, he earned his place back in my good books when he quickly and expertly navigated the conversation in a different direction, telling one of his own stories to fill the heavy silence.

Still. That had been too close.

“I think I’m gonna go to sleep,” Tom said quietly to me, but loudly enough for the others to overhear. “You probably should, too. You look exhausted.”

After a few seconds of genuine debate, I took the out, nodding. “Alright.”

Conversation screeched to a halt as soon as I started trying to lever myself up onto the crutches, trying and failing to keep my face blank. Tom knew better than to offer his help, though I could tell it was on the tip of his tongue.

“I’ll help you to your room,” Fox said decisively.

I rolled my eyes as I finally got standing. “I’m not a maiden, Ben.”

Fox raised an eyebrow. “Never said you were.” The unspoken _I still have questions, and I’m not going to let you stall any longer_ hung heavy, and I sighed in acquiescence.

“Alex?” Lion’s voice was a blend of concern and distrust. His eyes slid to Fox as he stood, then back to me.

“It’s fine,” I assured, Tom hovering at my elbow as I made my way back to the spare bedroom. “Good to see you again,” I threw over my shoulder to the remainder of K-Unit.

“Yeah, you too,” Wolf said, raising a hand. I got a smile from Snake and a wave from Eagle, and then Fox was trekking behind me on my way to the bedroom.

When I finally staggered through the threshold, I all but collapsed onto the bed, all but dumping the crutches on the floor. That was exhausting.

“Want me to grab your meds?” Tom asked from the doorway, eyeing the bathroom.

“Yeah, thanks, mate,” I said with an arm over my eyes, feeling the subtle tug of sleep.

“You’re not going to fall asleep on me again, are you?” Fox asked, coming cautiously into the room to lean against the doorframe. I think he was finally starting to gather that yes, I was also skittish around him, despite the fact that I trusted him more than the others.

“Jury’s still out,” I said, scowling when I realized that was an American expression. “I mean…maybe. I dunno.”

I heard him reposition himself. “You’re still tired.”

“It’s only been a few days,” I said, feeling the fresh ache of my leg and side flare at the realization. “Of course, I’m still tired.”

He may have nodded. A second or two later, Tom returned with a cup of lukewarm water and some pills.

I scowled, glancing up at him. “I just wanted the antibiotic and the immune booster.”

Tom raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Well, lucky for you, I don’t care what you want.”

Damn. I downed the pills without a second thought, knowing that Tom could in fact match Bear on the level of neurotic worry on one of his particularly bad days. I felt uncomfortable taking the antidepressant and the anxiety meds, but I refused the sleep aid. I knew from the energy in my veins that tonight would be a bad night, and the last thing I wanted was to become trapped in the nightmares.

“You’ve got a good nursemaid,” Fox commented.

Tom laughed. “Someone has to keep an eye on him.”

I smirked reluctantly. “Please. Between the two of us, you’d need the supervision a lot more than me.”

I scooted back up against the headboard, hissing as the stitches on my side pulled. “Fox, what did you want to talk about?” Fox glanced at Tom. “He can stay. He knows everything, anyways.”

I didn’t miss Tom’s look of satisfaction.

Fox sighed, pulling the door closed behind him. “You haven’t told them.”

“About what?”

“Any of it, Alex.”

I shifted, glancing at Tom, then at the comforter. “No. I’ve been thinking about trying to, but…no, I haven’t yet.”

Fox narrowed his eyes. I could tell he was really trying to keep his frustration in check, but some of it was seeping into his words, anyways. “Why?”

I shifted, shrugging, feeling like a scolded schoolboy for trying to stay alive. “Because it’s dangerous.”

“They seem like they’d support you, though, kid. I don’t…I don’t see the problem.”

“Well, I do, Fox!” I all but shouted, frustration bubbling in my lungs. I took as deep a breath as I was able, trying to calm down. “I just—it’s not that simple.”

Fox looked at the ceiling, obviously formulating a response. Tom was tense on the edge of the bed, looking between the two of use like a tennis match. “Okay, fine. Tell me why it’s not that simple.”

I let my head thunk against the headboard, closing my eyes. I was tired. “Because…because I want to stay here with them. I’ve never wanted anything more,” I admitted reluctantly, feeling the truth of the words nearly overwhelm me. “I like it here, and I like it with them.”

And I did. I did, more than anything. Unfortunately, I had yet to properly deal with the fact that SCORPIA did, in fact, know my location. That the assassin knew where to find me and had fully taken advantage of that. That they would undoubtedly send more, and that ne day, someone besides me would get hurt. I hadn’t dealt with that yet, because the possibility of leaving was so overwhelming.

But I wanted to stay. And as soon as they learned the rest…well, it would be impossible.

“MI6 is one thing,” I said quietly. “I’ve been thinking…I might tell them…pieces. Small things, you know? We’ll build up to it.” And I had. I really had been thinking about it. They’d taken everything else so well, and somehow, they still _wanted_ me here. After everything…MI6 didn’t seem like too much of a leap.

I swallowed, blinking. “But…my family? My _age_? I can’t, Ben. Bear works with kids all the time, and Lion has a nephew and a younger sister, and Tiger’s so overprotective it’s not even funny. They’d—they’d _never_ let me stay in the SAS. And if I can’t stay in the SAS, I can’t stay with them. I’ll just be—be right back where I started. On my way to some God-awful orphanage, or alone, or—or worse.” On a mission or in the Bank.

“Or with me, you twit,” Tom grumbled. “Bloody ignorant bastard.”

I smiled at the immediate correction, even though I knew I couldn’t do that. SCORPIA’s headquarters were in Italy. It would be so, so easy for them to find me there, and then…I couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to Tom or Jerry because of me.

I ignored the comment after an affirming look in his direction, continuing, “I just…can’t. I can’t leave, and I they know, I can’t stay. They’d never let me stay. And…and I need this, Ben,” I admitted, the uncomfortable ache of reluctant vulnerability twitching through me.

Ben looked at me with hard, blank eyes, as characteristic of a spy, even retired. He glanced at Tom, then at me, and shook his head, sighing. “They’re going to find out.”

I swallowed subtly. “I know.”

“What’re you going to do then?”

I shrugged, looking away. “I don’t know. I’m hoping they’ll find out when I…you know. When I’m actually legal to join up. Then…well, they’ll be mad as hell, but we can move through it, you know?”

Fox looked _less_ than pleased at the thought of my illegally participating in the SAS for over a year and a half, but he didn’t say as much. I could see the reluctant acquiescence in his eyes even before he said as much, and something eased in my writhing mess of a stomach. “Alright. I won’t say anything. But…I think you’re not giving them enough credit.”

I glanced at him, a question hovering in my eyes.

“Looks like they’re not going to get rid of you anytime soon, kid,” Fox said with a glance in the direction of the living room. “I really think if you told them…sure, they wouldn’t let you stay in the SAS anymore, but I highly doubt they’d just drop you. I’m sure you could work something out.”

I pinched my eyes in caution, even though I knew he was right. The problem was the “something.” There were too many unknown variables—too much room for error. Too much room for good-intentioned actions that would lead to even worse situations.

“I can’t,” I said decidedly, not giving him the opportunity to contradict me again. “I’m sorry. I’m tired.”

“Alrighty, then you’re going to sleep,” Tom finished for me, popping up like a springboard to herd a startled Fox out of the room. “Lovely to meet you, glad you’re not as much of a dick as I thought. Have a lovely day.”

Fox shot me one last look as I laughed from behind Tom, barely catching Fox’s muttered expletive.

“You’re ridiculous,” I commented, my eyes heavy.

“Preaching to the choir,” he said, toeing the sleeping bag on the ground next to my bed, plopping o=down on the edge once more. “Bloody hell, mate. I was just a spectator and I’m tired. No wonder you have thirty-six thousand pills. I’d be stressed too.”

I smiled a little at the comment, knowing without a doubt that Tom didn’t have it in him to create it from a place of malice or judgment. “I’m well and truly screwed, my friend.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “Dramatic.”

I smiled again, letting my eyes close. I was exhausted.

“I’ve been putting it off, but…I think I’ve got to get back to Italy soon,” he said tentatively.

Though I’d been expecting it at some point, the immediate sense of _wrongness_ felt at the thought of him being gone again was too palpable to possibly ignore. “When?”

He shifted, and I opened my eyes to see him staring at the carpet. “Day after tomorrow. I was waiting to book the flight until I could tell you.”

I looked away, nodding slowly. “…alright.”

“It’s not the end of the world,” he said quickly. “I mean, you can come visit when you’re better, and I’ll come visit before then. I think I’ve got break coming up, actually, in about a month. If you haven’t come out by then, I’ll come back for a few days over the holidays, okay?”

He was talking quickly, desperate to assure both me and himself that this wouldn’t be like last time. That we wouldn’t go almost two years without speaking or seeing each other. I wasn’t sure my mental health could survive that again, anyways.

“Relax, mate,” I said quietly. “I’m not going to cut you off again. I promise.”

Something collapsed in Tom’s shoulders, and I realized he’d been worrying about that all this time. The way his face crumpled filled me with absolute guilt, and something twisted in my chest. “Oh, thank God. Because I really figured you wouldn’t, after everything, you know, but it still makes me nervous because you’re so bloody predictable, and it seemed like just the kind of thing you’d do—”

“Breathe, Tom,” I instructed, torn between collapsing in grief and guilt and laughing, because—because it was _Tom_. “I promise, okay? No matter what happens, as long as I’m able, I’ll find a way to call you. Alright?”

Tom looked at me, and I had to remind myself that he really only showed this expression to me and Jerry and his parents, because his usually mirthful eyes were a mess of vulnerable uncertainty. “Al. You can’t do that to me again, okay? I didn’t—I had to take a month off of school because I was such a _mess_ worrying about you, wondering what the hell happened to you. I—I can’t do that again.”

I felt my throat bob, but I swallowed, glancing away. “I can’t, either. I promise, Tom. Really.”

His face relaxed, finally, and I felt the moment his shoulders eased into belief instead of just acceptance. “Good. You’re bloody lucky.”

Neither of us mentioned the fact that we both swiped at our eyes.

The thought of having a permanent connection to the world again was frightening. After Jack had died, after Sabina had died…well, in order to go into hiding, off the grid…I had to erase everything. That included Tom. Right now, L-Unit…Lion and Tiger and Bear, no matter how much they meant to me or how badly I wanted to stay with them…they were originally Matthew’s connections. Jaguar’s. Perhaps they were mine now, as well, but they were still tenuous, no matter how badly I wanted to believe they weren’t.

I would only be fooling myself if I believed that. I’d been prepared to leave them just a few days ago. It had been a horrible and hard decision, but I’d been prepared to make it. I was very much a transient individual, being dragged through life, determined not to leave a lasting impression anywhere.

But now that Tom was back, now that he was here and I couldn’t avoid him anymore, I’d accepted him back as a permanent part of my life, and…and I didn’t have nothing anymore. Even though this, this flat and these people were incredible and so much more than I could’ve asked for, Tom was Tom. And he was back and—and I finally had a permanent connection to the world again.

I had no excuse to disappear without a trace again, because if nothing else, Tom was my trace. If nothing else, I couldn’t do that to him.

It was terrifying. It was dangerous.

It was so, so relieving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my extended absence is due to the fact that, as I'm sure some of you on one of my other sites know, I literally went through a roller coaster of emotion for the past month thinking I'd lost all my files on my computer -- my fanfiction, my original books, my schoolwork, literally everything. But we got it back! God's awesome!
> 
> Anyways. I hope you liked this chapter :) please drop a comment or something if you want! Thanks so much!


	26. Chapter 26

Tom left two days later, that evening.

It was a bitter thing. I’d fought tooth and nail to see him off from the airport, but Bear hadn’t budged—I wasn’t strong enough to travel yet, even just a couple hours in the car. I’d risk tearing my stitches. I’d muttered some choice words under my breath, but he’d just laughed.

We’d made the most of yesterday, and the guys had mostly let us have our space. While he’d also take an hour to help me re-dye my hair (as it was fading yet again, since the last time I’d touched it up had been almost a month ago), we’d spent most of it talking, mostly about him. He was attending an international school, which was good, because according to him, he couldn’t speak Italian for shit. I laughed, and offered to give him lessons, but he scowled and waved me off.

Currently, he was on the soccer team, and he mostly got on with the rest of the blokes there. He wasn’t Captain, since he’d transferred sol late, but the current Captain—a guy named Ahmad—promised that if he stuck around long enough, the position was his. I didn’t doubt it—Tom was one of the best footie players I knew.

Unfortunately, though, he also had school, which he was missing quite a bit of. He’d never been the most academically motivated, and while he was passing all his classes, he couldn’t afford to miss more than a couple days of school on his wild expedition for his long-lost best friend, as he put it.

That was how I found myself in the foyer, knuckles screaming as I tightened my fist around my crutch, watching Tom heave on his backpack.

We’d already said most of our goodbyes in Elliott’s room, complete with an exchange of numbers and another demand from Tom for a text at least every couple days. I’d scoffed and called him an overbearing mum, but I’d obliged, nonetheless.

“Text me when you’re back in Italy,” I requested as Tom finally situated the bag on his back. Bloody hell, the thing probably weighed as much as he did. “And tell Jerry I hope he’s doing well.”

“Yeah, I will,” Tom assured, pulling a face as he tightened the straps of his backpack. “You’re going to text me every couple of days, right?”

I scowled as Tiger snorted, twirling the keys in his hand. Bear was at the youth center, so he’d already wished Tom a safe journey, so Tiger would be driving Tom to the airport in London. “Yeah, you bloody nursemaid. I will.”

Tom smiled, eyes still worried, but less so. “Okay. Just…don’t go looking for trouble, yeah?”

“I’ll try, but it seems to find me anyways.”

He chuckled, though it was a little darker than I’d expected. “Yeah. I know. Just do your best.”

I nodded, and he didn’t give me a chance to say anything else before he gave me a hug, minding the crutches and my injuries.

I could tell Tom was reluctant to leave me, and if I was being honest, I was reluctant to let him leave, as well. It had been so long, and a few days seemed…so inadequate. Unfortunately, he couldn’t crash on the floor of Elliott’s room forever.

I knew that he had to go, but it was still bloody hard to watch.

He let me go, stepping back and giving me a smile, then turned his direction to Tiger and Lion. “Please don’t let him get himself killed. He’s got a knack for close calls.”

I rolled my eyes as they laughed. “If nothing else, we’ve noticed that,” Lion said, shaking Tom’s hand. “Nice to meet you. You’re welcome round anytime.”

A few more pleasantries, a final wave, and he was gone again.

I blinked, already feeling the loss, though even I knew how stupid it sounded.

“Want some tea?” Lion asked, making his way to the kitchen.

“Actually, do we have any Coke?” I eased myself down onto the couch, hissing as the stitches in my leg pulled. It’d been really aggravating me; maybe I’d have to forfeit and ask Bear for some pain medication when he got back, after all.

“Yeah, hang on.” Lion returned a moment later with a Coke and a Pibb. He sat beside me in one of the armchairs, glancing out the window to the setting sun. “Are you hungry? You didn’t eat much.”

I shrugged, taking a sip of soda. “M’okay. Wasn’t very hungry to begin with.”

“Right.”

Somewhat comfortable silence lasted for a couple minutes before Lion spoke again. “I met my goal today.”

I smiled in his direction, the news improving my sour mood somewhat. This was the third day in a row—I hoped it would continue. “I’m glad. What d’you want to ask?”

Lion glanced up at the ceiling, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair. “You can veto, and I won’t be upset. I’m just curious, really.” He glanced at me, asking permission, and I nodded for him to continue. “Are you comfortable around Fox? Really?”

I blinked in surprise, unprepared for the question. Upon closer inspection, I could see the tension in Lion’s shoulders and the suspicion in his eyes, his patented expression of worry fighting to shine through the mask of indifference.

I smirked a little. Just curious, my arse. “You really don’t like him.”

An unsubtle shift, a tiny shrug of noncommittal disagreement. Ever the diplomatic leader. “Well, I wouldn’t say I don’t like him—”

“No, you don’t. I think it’s funny. You’re actually kind of similar.” I knew I was right when I saw Lion’s eyes darken in something like reactive offense, and I laughed. “In good ways, I promise.”

“Okay, then…tell me about him. Because you looked really uncomfortable the first time you saw him, and he’s been pestering you every time he’s been round, and you really don’t need that right now, kid.”

The seriousness of Lion’s tone eased me back into the present, and I glanced at him, slowly frowning in thought. “I don’t…it’s not that I’m uncomfortable. I really do…trust him. I mean, we didn’t speak much at Brecon Beacons the first time, so it was mostly irrelevant. But the second time…”

I paused, wondering how best to go about it. Damn, it would be so much simpler if they just… _knew_ I went on missions.

“…let’s just say I was in a bad situation, and he knew how to help,” I said slowly, knowing the answer was painfully vague. I couldn’t think of another way to phrase it, though. “He was… supportive, and I needed a friend.”

Especially after I’d found out about Ash. That had been…debilitating, for a little bit, and knowing that Fox was there and knew—even if not about Ash’s identity, then about everything else—had been comforting.

“I was a lot younger, too,” I admitted, glancing at the ceiling. “I was a little more willing to ask for help, and he knew what to do when I didn’t know how to handle something. We lost touch, but…I knew I could count on him, if I ever needed anything. I guess that was enough,” I admitted, glancing at him to see his reaction.

Lion still looked a little dubious, but it seemed like my explanation had taken the edge off of his suspicion. “Okay, well…I’m glad. How are we alike?”

I laughed a little. “Still hung up on that?”

“Just answer, Jag.”

I grinned, glancing back at the ceiling in thought. “Well…he’s a lot more impulsive than you, but you’re both pretty kind. You just show it differently. He’s really protective, like you. He’s also a little like Bear—he gets mad when people don’t take care of themselves, and sometimes it can come across a little strongly. Um…yeah, I think that’s most of it. He doesn’t seem to have changed much.”

I saw Lion nod out of the corner of my eye, looking thoughtful. “Okay. I suppose those aren’t the worst similarities to have.”

I laughed again. I didn’t think it was possible for Lion to dislike someone. Other than his father, of course. “Why do you dislike him so much? You barely know him.”

Lion shrugged, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’m allowed to dislike people, squirt. I dunno. I didn’t like how either of you reacted when he first saw you, and I suppose it left a bad impression.”

“I was also in a pretty bad headspace,” I reminded him.

Lion scowled a little, his expression blackening, and I kicked myself for reminding him. “I know, but that’s not the point. The point is you were nervous around him, and I wasn’t okay with it.”

I looked away, humming thoughtfully, even as warmth blossomed in my chest. I knew by now—it was impossible not to know by now—that he cared about me, and what happened to me. That _they_ cared about me, and that I had a place here. But still—hearing him say it so casually, so off-handedly…

…it was nice.

“Tiger said you haven’t done anything with your room,” Lion said after a moment, and I refocused on him.

I shrugged. “I don’t have a lot of stuff.”

Lion raised an eyebrow.

I glanced away, pursing my lips. Damn, he was observant.

“Alex…Elliott’s gone. We miss him, yeah. It still hurts, yeah. But that’s your room, now, as long as you want it to be.”

I couldn’t look at him for a second, and he didn’t push me for a response. Instead, I turned the words over, searching and scanning for answers, for some type of sign that he was being the least bit untruthful. **[A/N: Bonus points if you know where I got part of this line ;)].** When I found none, I glanced at him.

“You guys are mental,” I admitted, smiling when he chuckled. “I’ve been nothing but trouble.”

“That’s true.”

“And I literally have two of the world’s most dangerous organizations after me.”

“…we only know the one, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Lion, I brought an _assassin_ to your door.”

Lion shrugged. “Like you said, we’re mental.”

Reluctantly, I smiled, shaking my head. “I dunno how of all the SAS units, the Sergeant put me with you.” I don’t know how I was lucky enough to be placed with them.

“He has a knack for that. How d’you think K-Unit ended up working so well together?” Lion got up, reaching for my empty can to throw away. “He knows what personalities work well together and which don’t. Granted, we gave him a run for his money for a while after losing Elliott, but I’m glad we did. We got it right eventually, didn’t we?”

I hummed in acknowledgement, watching as the last traces of the sunset, a warm tingle in my chest.

“In a couple days, if you’re up to it, we’re going shopping,” he called from the kitchen.

“I don’t need stuff for the room.”

“Well, maybe I hate watching you wear the same three outfits on repeat, Alex.”

I blushed, and I heard him snort at my silence.

Well, he had a point there. There were only so many times I could wear the same t-shirt and cargo pants before I got sick of it, and admittedly, I was steadily approaching that point. Besides—I missed what I used to wear. Faded jeans and baggie hoodies. I supposed I couldn’t really get a lot of those, because they made me look so much younger, but…one outfit couldn’t hurt.

I smiled. I’d miss Tom, yeah, but…I had something good here, too.

…

Lion went to church for a better portion of the next morning, and Bear slept late, so Tiger brought me Moroccan coffee and a scone from the shop down the block.

“How’s your weight?” Tiger asked suddenly, a few seconds after I’d finished telling him about Tom’s schooling, since he’d asked. We were both early risers, and since Lion was out most Sunday mornings, that left us to our own devices.

We’d been having a normal conversation, I’d assumed, but the conversation threw me. I blinked a couple times. “What?”

“Your weight,” Tiger repeated, scowling a little over his Rwandan blend. “It was low in the hospital, and I’m asking how it is now.”

I blinked again. “It’s been a month.”

“Bloody hell, kid. I didn’t want to badger you about it, and I didn’t want to say anything in front of the other two. Now, how’s your weight?”

Oh. Well…that was considerate of him. I shrugged a little. “I mean…I dunno, really. I don’t feel much different.”

Tiger’s eyes narrowed a little. “We’ll buy you a scale when we go out. Start keeping track of it, yeah?”

I didn’t particularly know why, but the thought made me uncomfortable. “Um—I’m really not sure I need—”

“Just do it for my peace of mind, kid.”

I pursed my lips. Tiger never had peace of mind to begin with. “That’s not fair.”

“It’s not that hard. You don’t have to tell me what it is. I just want you to keep up with it, so you know what you need to do.”

I tapped the rim of my glass with my stub of a fingernail. “I really don’t know if I can afford all this,” I admitted pensively, running numbers in my head as well as I could without a calculator.

I’d gotten my first paycheque, and it was…well, substantially more than I thought it would be, honestly. And then I had the money I’d managed to scrounge and save on the run, starting a fund for when I turned eighteen and have to move again.

I wasn’t sure what would happen now, but…even if I didn’t want to leave, I wanted to be prepared.

The first thing I’d done was transfer an appropriate sum to Lion to cover my portion of the rent, after doing a bit of research into the flat’s rates, since they wouldn’t tell me how much I owed. He’d scowled and tried to return the money, but I suppose after a few moments he’d figured that it was better not to argue. I couldn’t accept anymore charity from them than I already had, at least not then.

After that, I’d taken half of the remaining money and transferred to a legitimate account in a distant cousin’s name that Smithers had help me set up—it wouldn’t be traceable by MI6, even if they discovered my other dummy accounts. After I’d deposited the rest of my physical money in the same legitimate account (with Bear’s help) I didn’t have such an impressive amount left.

Buying clothes, things for my room, and a decent scale…plus I still had to give them money for food and bills…

“I can see the gears getting stuck,” Tiger commented after a moment of agonizing silence, in which my mental math skills floundered hopelessly. “We’ll spot you the money for what you need. It’s not charity,” he said quickly, holding up a hand when I tried to interrupt. “It’s an investment, or a loan, or however you want to look at it. We’d do the same for each other, and we have on multiple occasions.”

I opened my mouth. Closed it again. Opened it again, and scrapped another argument.

Tiger raised an eyebrow.

“But I really don’t—”

“Zip it.”

And that was it.

…

_remembr that cute Indian girl i told u bout_

That was the text from Tom that woke me two days later. I wasn’t used to my phone going off, honestly—the only other people to text me were the others in the flat, and I was around them most of the time, anyways, so there was no need. The innocuous _ding_ startled me enough that I almost jumped out of bed, and my side flared in startled discomfort.

“Bloody hell,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair as I fumbled for the phone on the nightstand, reading the text with bleary eyes. It took my sluggish brain a moment to translate the incomplete words, and I scowled. It was bloody eight thirty in the morning. Just because he had class didn’t mean I did.

Clumsily, I typed a reply, my knuckles aching, though far less than before. Physically, I was actually doing much better—I’d switched to one crutch now, instead of two, and was able to put some weight on the injured leg. After the gunshot wound to my chest, it seemed like nothing, and I’d mentioned as much in a moment of inattention.

Dark eyes and tight faces had reigned for a couple hours after that comment, and I resigned myself not to bring it up again.

Despite that, the wound on my side was much better—it was slowly knitting itself closed, and though there would be a gnarly scar to add to my impressive collection, it would heal with no complications. Bear was helping me do some minor stretches on it and my leg to test the healing process, and he was pleased so far. Snake, who had a bit more medical training had come over the day prior to help him with my progress.

I liked Snake. Of all of K-Unit, besides Fox, I got on with him the easiest—I supposed because of his easy-going personality and soft-spoken nature, we were a bit alike. It would be nice to have that buffer going forward, anyways. He wanted to get his medical degree once he left the SAS, so he thanked me for giving him a trial patient. Bear told him he was likely to get plenty of practice with me.

I’d had to laugh at that.

_Rhea? What about her?_ I typed, focusing back on the present. I closed my eyes and almost dozed off before I got another reply, clumsily reading the next message.

_she’s in2 me_.

_You think everything with a pulse and a skirt is into you, Tom_.

It took him a minute to reply to that one, and it was with a flat-face emoji that I assumed was meant to be unimpressed. _ur a terrible wingman_.

I smirked, and sent a thumbs-up. _Don’t show her the scar. It’s not as cool as you think it is._

_Arse._

I smiled, liking his message, then told him to pay attention in class and let the phone fall on the comforter beside me, staring up at the ceiling.

Hm. That wasn’t so bad. It felt almost normal.

I closed my eyes. This afternoon, we’d be going shopping, despite my inordinate requests not to do so. This morning, though, was free.

I’d put it off long enough. I needed to think about what I’d do about SCORPIA.

To be practical, there wasn’t much I could do, especially in my current condition. And it seemed, no matter how many times I’d destroyed them, they still had the resources to hire two of the best contract killers in the world in a comparatively short amount of time—Hollis and the assassin from Cookham Bridge. Besides that, they’d had the time and resources to organize his rescue and exportation, even if it hadn’t gone as planned.

I blinked, narrowing my eyes in thought and worry. Were they spending all their time trying to get revenge on me, or were they planning something else? It was frightening to think about what they could do even with so little, compared to what they used to have.

In a burst of curiosity, I wondered if there was still a copy of Operation Horseman hidden away somewhere. I laughed under my breath, closing my eyes. That would be wonderful leverage against MI6, but it wouldn’t help me with SCORPIA. In fact, they may even help me publish it. Before or after they killed me, I couldn’t be sure.

I narrowed my eyes in thought.

It was a dangerous, stupid idea. The others would never, ever let me do it, and I didn’t know how I’d get permission, access, or the _courage_ to go through with it.

But…I’d killed the other assassin, and…

…that left Hollis.

Even as the thought entered my mind, goosebumps lined my arms, and I closed my eyes, pushing the flashes of terror and cold and creeping death away as quickly as I could. I hadn’t had a panic attack in a few days, and I didn’t want to break that streak now.

But…he’d dealt with SCORPIA, even if just through a third party, and he was my only lead.

Maybe it wouldn’t be for a while, but…I knew I’d have to talk to him sooner or later.

Preferably later, but I didn’t know how long SCORPIA would let me wait before they struck again.

I was terrified that next time, someone would get caught in the crossfire, and I couldn’t let that happen.

I opened my eyes and took a slow breath, staring at the ceiling I’d become so familiar with over the last month, and let it out.

December had finally hit, and the drizzling rains were wet and miserable, turning into slush in the streets on particularly cold days. I mostly watched it from the safety of the warm indoors—Bear had unequivocally told me that if I tried to set foot outside he’d tie me to the couch—but I missed the tepid warmth of fall. I’d never been one for winter.

Today, though, we’d be going out, and it wasn’t supposed to be terribly wet.

I took another breath, closing my eyes, smiling as the phone dinged next to me again. No wonder Tom did so poorly in his classes—he was smart, he just didn’t listen.

Maybe I didn’t have all the answers now, but…I at least had a plan for the future, when I was more able. That was better than yesterday, and it would be better tomorrow, and…I just had to hold onto that.

I wouldn’t let myself return to the place I’d been in last week. It had been a mental nosedive of kamikaze proportions, and—and I couldn’t let it happen again. For Tom’s sake, for L-Unit’s sake, for my sake.

I wouldn’t let it happen again.

If I could control nothing else, I could control myself, and…and that was a start.

I smiled a little as two more dings interrupted my musings, finally checking my phone.

I was grateful I wouldn’t have to do it alone this time, at least.

…

I hadn’t been to a department store in a while, mostly to avoid the crowds and the noise. As soon as I walked in, I realized I hadn’t missed it in the slightest. I felt even more self-conscious than usual—while the bruises had faded, I still got some odd looks. Lion ruffled my hair when my shoulders tensed, sending me an encouraging smile.

L-Unit had tried to come at a time when there weren’t many people—I knew, because I’d overheard them talking about it—but I supposed they’d forgotten about the pre-Christmas hubbub that started each December, or they’d had to work with the circumstances. It was still during working hours, so it wasn’t as crowded as it would have been otherwise, but there was still an impressive number of people milling around.

“At least Christmas means we should be able to find you some stuff on sale,” Lion said quietly, patting my shoulder as I glanced dubiously around the mall, sighing.

“Yeah, hopefully,” I said, and he smirked at my obvious lack of enthusiasm.

Tiger grabbed a cart, letting it trail behind him as he pushed it along with one hand on the front of the basket, looking almost as uncomfortable as I felt. I knew Bear didn’t really like crowds, either, but he seemed to be doing fine, as he was already beelining for the clearance section.

“I probably shouldn’t try anything on,” I admitted as I got closer to Bear, who was already rifling through the men’s pants. My muscles were pretty stiff, and the thought of wrestling in and out of clothes for an hour was less than inviting.

“That’s fine. We’ll buy a few pairs and bring back what doesn’t fit,” he conceded. Lion busied himself by checking the price tags of the things Bear had taken off the rack, and I was glad someone was being practical about it. I saw Lion wince and put a couple of things back, but Bear didn’t seem to notice. “What do you like to wear? You can’t tell me you’re comfortable in cargo pants all the time.”

“Um…I like jeans, mostly. And t-shirts. And hoodies, but I think they’re out,” I said, glancing past them at an empty rack. No wonder—the sign said they were sixty percent off. There were a couple left, but they looked far too small for me; I assumed they were girls’ sizes. That sucked. I missed hoodies.

I supposed it was a psychological thing, but I liked baggy hoodies that I could mostly hide in. It was a stupid feeling of safety, but it helped on bad days. I supposed I’d have to wait a little longer.

“We’ll get you some later, then,” Tiger said, glancing at the empty rack. “How much do you have in your checking account? Will you be able to buy a few extra things without an overdraft fee?”

I blinked, narrowing my eyes. “A what?”

Tiger didn’t say anything for a moment, then sighed. “Kid, where the hell did you go to school? You should know that. It’s what happens when you take more money out of your checking account than you have in it to begin with. If that happens, they charge a fee.”

I blushed a little, looking away. That was pretty self-explanatory—I should’ve picked up on that. “Oh. Um, I think I have enough.”

Tiger looked at me for another second, then sighed, scratching his ear. “Lion and I can help you come up with a budget sometime this week, okay? Bear’s not allowed to help. He blows money faster than a billionaire in an electronics store.”

I laughed a little at Bear’s indignant expression, but he couldn’t deny it—not with the pile of clothes in his arms. “What? I’m giving you options,” he defended at my dubious look. I needn’t have worried—Lion was steadfastly plucking the expensive stuff from his hands and returning it to the rack.

Tiger smirked, patting my shoulder. “Well, as long as you have enough for some clothes and a scale, we’ll be fine for today. If you have some extra money, then you can get a couple things for your room.”

I nodded, satisfied with the compromise. I didn’t know how comfortable I’d be spending a lot of money, so that seemed reasonable.

All in all, it was a better day than I thought it would be. Bear made me find benches and rest my leg frequently, but one of them always stayed with me, which was comforting. Lion mostly had to chaperone Bear when he was piling clothes into the cart, so Tiger used the time to go find a scale. He found a cheap white one and paid for it before I even knew he’d gotten it, and he ignored me when I told him I’d pay him back.

Dammit. Tiger’s way of showing concern was infuriating sometimes. Appreciated, but infuriating.

Bear, who would have done quite well on _Say Yes to the Dress_ with the inordinate amount of clothes he picked out, wouldn’t let us leave until I’d picked at least three pairs of pants and three shirts to add to my humble rotation, but Lion had done well in his oversight—the price was more reasonable than I thought it’d be.

I didn’t end up buying any decorative things for the room, but I bought a couple paperbacks that looked interesting, which mollified them for the time being.

After confirming that I still felt okay, albeit a bit tired, Lion suggested we go out to eat. We’d had a lot of takeout, but aside from our visits to the coffee shop, I hadn’t been out in a while. Bear picked, claiming he was sick of Indian food, and chose a little Thai place a ten-minute drive away.

Lion looked a little put out, as Thai food was one of his least favorite kinds, but I was kind of excited—I hadn’t had Thai in a while. I helped Lion find something palatable while Tiger and Bear fought over which appetizer to get.

The day was good, and the dinner was a really nice way to wrap it up, and I forced myself to push everything from my mind. For just a couple hours, I refused to think about MI6, or SCORPIA, or my mental health. I refused to think about Hollis, or the looming threat of more assassins, or my future, or the lies and secrets.

For a few hours, I was just Alex, out to dinner with my…my almost-family. Almost, and getting closer every day.

I was just Alex, and I could be a kid for a few hours, and it was…awesome.

…

It had been a great day, but the ending was…incredibly comforting.

I was listening to music, resting my leg on a pile of pillows. It ached after spending so much time out and about today, but it was a good ache—at least I knew I was healing. I was halfway through a playlist of upbeat music I’d made when I heard a faint knock on the door.

I opened my eyes, popping out one earbud. “Come in.”

Lion came in a couple seconds later, a bundle of fabric in his hand. “Hey. How’re you feeling?”

I smiled, pausing my music and wrapping the headphones around the phone. “Good. A little tired, but I’m glad I got to go out.”

Lion grinned, sitting on the bed. “I’m glad. I was worried Bear ran you ragged.”

I smirked. “He tried.”

“Yeah, he gets excited,” he said, glancing to the living room. After a second of silence, he said, “I was so distracted I didn’t even get a chance to smoke today. I think it’s the first time in a while I haven’t smoked all day.”

I perked up at that, a genuine grin on my face. “That’s awesome, Lion.”

He smiled at my enthusiasm, light red creeping up his neck as he ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I was…pretty happy about it when I realized.”

“I’m glad. What do you want to ask?”

“Well, nothing, today,” he said, tossing the bundle of fabric at me.

Surprised, I caught it, and felt the familiar threads of a thick hoodie in my hands. “What’s this?”

He shrugged, looking unconcerned. “An old hoodie of mine. I don’t wear it anymore. It’s a little small on me, so it’ll probably be a little big on you, but it’ll work until we can get you a new one. Or you can keep it, I don’t care.”

I blinked, glancing at him, turning it over in my hands. “Are…are you sure?”

He smiled, nodding. “Sure, kid. Try it on, make sure it’s okay.”

I glanced at the front, stalling a little, to see _Saint Francis Xavier 6 th Form College _in teal letters emblazoned on the faded grey thread. Minding my side, hissing a little, I threaded my arms through the sleeves, letting it fall over my head.

I blinked, staring at the sleeves which fell well past my fingertips. “I’m drowning.”

Lion laughed, loud and long, and pinched the bridge of his nose after he’d gotten a good look at me, cackling towards the floor. “Holy shit, you are. I didn’t think it would be that big on you.”

I laughed a little with him, glancing down. After I let myself feel the familiar comfort of the hoodie, I felt…a feeling of familiarity and peace wash over me, and it was so _stupid_ , because it was just a clump of fabric, but…it felt really good, and it was warm, and it was exactly what I’d wanted. I’d left most of my hoodies at the Pleasures’ because they took up space, and the one I’d brought had been slashed to ribbons and stained in blood last week.

And I would never, _ever_ , admit it, not even to myself, but the fact that it was Lion’s made it…a little better. I remembered wearing Ian’s sweatshirts or t-shirts after particularly bad nightmares, or on bad days, and he’d always smile in fond exasperation. When I got older, he started trying to talk me out of it, but it had been a habit I’d stubbornly held onto.

I was glad I still didn’t have to give it up.

“Thanks, Lion,” I said with a small, genuine smile, and I was glad that it was getting a little easier everyday to be vulnerable like this. In small moments in private without the weight of consequences. “This is awesome.”

Lion, still on the tail-end of his fit of laughter, glanced up. “You’re welcome. Glad you like it.”

He ruffled my hair and stood. “Get some rest, ok? I think Snake’s coming back again tomorrow for another PT session.”

I fought the urge to groan, because even though I liked Snake, and I liked the fact that I was healing, those PT sessions sucked. “Okay.”

Lion paused in the door, glancing back. “By the way…thanks again, for helping me with…the whole smoking thing.” He didn’t look up, rubbing the back of his neck. I could see the hesitance in his eyes. “It’s…it’s helping a lot. I think I’m getting a lot better.”

Warmth flooded my stomach, and I had to physically restrain myself from grinning like a little kid. I didn’t want to seem any younger than I was in this damn swamp of a sweatshirt. “I’m really glad, Lion. Honestly.”

He smiled, inclining his head. “Me too, kid. Sleep well.”

Lion softly closed the door, and I was left alone with my thoughts and this stupidly large hoodie.

Blinking, already feeling tired, I lay down on my good side and popped my earbuds back in. I listened first, and made sure no one was around my door, before I gave into my childish desires and burrowed into the sweatshirt, closing my eyes in contentment.

I let my music play and I let myself feel warm and safe just for a while, and it was one of the best days I’d had in a really, really long time. And…and I could get used to them.

One day, maybe they’d be normal, and for the first time in a long time, I smiled while I thought about my future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this instead of studying for the GRE that I’m probably going to fail. Oh well. You’re welcome. 
> 
> *inhales* OMG THAT WAS SO CUTE I HAD SO MUCH FUN WITH THAT! My boys deserve a few fluffy chapters after everything I put them through. I love them. Agh. I’m also getting to really love Snake. Hehe.
> 
> Anyways! I hope you liked this chapter! Lion is precious and the best big brother ever and I stand by that. :D
> 
> Again, thank you so much for all the support, and buckle up, because we’re in for a wild ride…this is gonna be a long, LONG story, folks XD I have like a page and a half of very loose notes, and I’m not done yet. Lol. Love you all! Hope you stick around!


	27. Chapter 27

_Ding._

_Ding. Ding._

_Ding._

I opened my eyes reluctantly, gentle sunlight easing in through the window to spill across the floor at the foot of the bed. It couldn’t have been more than nine in the morning.

Eyes still closed, I fumbled for my phone on the nightstand, nearly knocking it off before I finally grabbed it. Lion’s hoodie was ridiculously big, and trying to grab the phone through the giant sleeves was tricky. I blinked several times until the words were discernable, seeing, unsurprisingly, a multitude of texts from Tom.

_Al_

_Alex_

_Rhea asked me out_

_I TOLD U_

I smirked, letting my eyes fall shut again, sleep still fervently warring with the sunlight and my slowly building consciousness. Tom was ridiculous. I was glad that he was texting me like before, though. It was like a slice of _before_ had been dropped into this part of my life, and it was refreshing.

 _Good for you, mate,_ I typed out, chuckling to myself. _Don’t go to laser tag on your first date. That’s how you scared Celeste off._

I closed my eyes, almost drifting off before it dinged again, resignedly checking his message.

_damn ur right. dinner or gelato?_

_Gelato,_ I recommended. _Then maybe a park._

His reply was almost immediate. _nice. simple. i like it._

 _No wonder your marks are where they are, you can’t capitalize._ I smirked as I sent that. _Pay attention in class._

I could imagine his scowl, and I smiled as he replied with a flat face. _Yes, mum_.

Well, that was progress. He capitalized yes.

I let an arm fall over my eyes, breathing deeply and relishing the peaceful haze of early morning sleepiness. For a while at the Pleasures’, constantly on the run, and even at the SAS in the beginning, this haze had been a dangerous place—sleep was necessary, but dangerous, and wakefulness was immediate. I had to be on my guard all the time, or I risked losing what I had—in materials, or my life.

Now, I was able to let myself linger in the comfort of sleep under the knowledge that I was safe, with people who cared about me and would have my back if I needed them. I smiled to myself, rubbing my eyes. I may as well get up.

It had been a couple days since we’d been shopping, and I was trying to make myself take my weight every morning. Between now and the hospital a month ago, I’d actually lost weight—52.5 kilos. Now that I was looking for it, I could see the sloping sides of my stomach that caved slightly in, the defined ridges of my ribs.

I supposed it wasn’t entirely my fault. I’d lost weight in the hospital, then I was sure I’d gained some back, but…well, then everything happened, and I was sure I’d lost some again. Still, I supposed I needed to be a little more intentional about eating.

I scowled. That probably meant less coffee, which was going to suck.

I debated on telling Tiger or not; he’d seemed concerned, but I knew he wouldn’t push me on it if I decided not to tell him. I supposed I’d tell him if he asked. Knowing him, he’d ply me with scones until I was as round as Smithers. Well, as round as I’d thought he was.

The thought brought a smile to my lips. I knew Smithers had probably disappeared from MI6, as well, but I wondered how he was doing now. He’d really surprised me with the fat suit; who knew what other tricks he had up his sleeve.

I looked at my crutch, but I’d actually done really well with Bear and Snake yesterday, during the stretching; I supposed I could try walking around without it today. It wasn’t like I’d be going far.

Bear was in the kitchen when I walked in, scrambling some eggs. He glanced back as I entered, steadying myself on the doorjamb. “Where’s your crutch?”

I smirked. Predictable Bear. “I felt good today. Wanted to try walking around without it.”

Bear looked a little concerned, but turned back to his eggs. “How’s it feeling?”

I winced as I lowered myself into one of the chairs, rubbing the muscle around the still-bandaged wound. “Okay. It hurts, especially without the crutch, but I can tell it’s getting better.”

Bear hummed in acknowledgement, shimmying the frying pan. “Get your crutch when you need it, yeah?”

I felt my shoulders tense the slightest bit, my eyes narrowing in confusion. “You’re…quiet.”

Bear blinked, glancing back at me. He seemed a little startled. “Ah. Yeah, sorry, mate. I’m thinking.”

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

Bear shrugged, plating the eggs with a final hiss of the pan, running the water over it to cool it down. Steam billowed up from the sizzling metal. Bear still seemed thoughtful. “I think so. Sarge called Lion in for a meeting; he’s on his way to Wales now with Tiger.”

I blinked. Of all the things he could’ve said, I hadn’t expected that. “What’s the matter? Why didn’t we go with them?”

“You didn’t go because you’re still recovering, idiot,” he said, seeming a little more like himself as he handed me the cereal he knew I liked, doubling back for a bowl. “I didn’t go because we couldn’t very well leave you on your own, with your track record.”

I wasn’t expecting that. I busied myself with the cereal. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s not how I meant it, mate. I’m joking.”

“I know,” I conceded, pouring in a considerable quantity of milk, mixing the cereal until it was more mush than anything. “I’m still sorry.”

“Well, quit it.” A pause. “I guess we have the house to ourselves today. Anything you’ve been wanting or meaning to do?”

I tilted my head in consideration. There wasn’t much I’d been particularly wanting to do; I was too content to jinx my situation with anything big. “Not really. I was just going to read one of the books I got, I think. What about you?”

Bear stretched, looking thoughtful. “Your bruises are mostly healed by now. D’you want to come to the youth center with me?”

I glanced up, my spoon comically frozen halfway to my mouth. “Huh?”

He smirked, lowering his arms and finishing his eggs, starting on two pieces of slightly burnt toast. “The kids would like you. You’re only a little older than them.” Great, that meant I was the same age. Brilliant. “And they’re always looking for uni-aged mentors. It’s not a commitment, or anything, but you can come and see how you like it.”

I paused, a little caught off guard. “I-I mean…what do you do?”

He shrugged. “Mostly help with homework. A lot of the kids there during school hours have behavior problems, so they’ve been deemed to disruptive to remain in their regular classrooms. Instead they bring in volunteers to tutor them in their coursework. On weekends and afternoons, we mostly do team sports and exercises to help manage behavior and build character, that kind of thing.”

I furrowed my eyebrows at that, glancing away. “I’m not sure if I’m the best person for that.”

“You kidding? I think you’d be great,” Bear said without hesitation, incredulity coloring his voice. “You were awesome with Jonah. I think you’d be really good at forming relationships with the younger kids, especially a couple who are kind of hard to reach. Wanna give it a shot?”

I tapped my fingers nervously on the table, my soggy cereal forgotten. It was that or spend the whole day here alone, which sounded the slightest bit suckier. “You sure it would be okay?”

“Of course, mate. We’ll leave in an hour, if that’s alright.”

Hesitantly, I nodded. I supposed it couldn’t be that bad. I doubted any of the kids from Brookland, which was a fairly posh school, would end up at a youth center in Cookham for behavior problems, so the risk was low. “Yeah, that…that sounds okay.”

“Oi.” I glanced up at his voice; he was smiling, patient eyes alight in humor. “If you get uncomfortable, just tell me, and we’ll leave, alright? But I think you’re going to have a good time.”

I sighed in acceptance, taking another bite of cereal. “Okay.”

Well, it would be entertaining, if nothing else.

…

Bear made me take my crutch, even though I insisted that I was fine. It was frustrating, but I was realistic enough to admit that yes, I’d probably need it at some point.

“We won’t stay all day,” Bear reassured as we made the drive, about thirty minutes east of Cookham. Tiger and Lion had taken Lion’s car, so we took Tiger’s. “Maybe a few hours. I’m working with this kid, Abram, on an English assignment due tomorrow, so I promised I’d come on. Plus, some of the older kids are going to want to play basketball. They’re all betting on who will beat me first, since I’m so tall,” he said with a wink, and I had to laugh at that.

“Anyone had any luck so far?” I asked, curious.

“Not yet,” he said with a laugh, looking excited. I was glad; I was always glad to see any of them excited. “Campbell’s come close. She’s almost as light on her feet as you are.”

I smirked, looking out the window. It was a rainy day; I was glad I’d grabbed my windbreaker. I’d managed to stitch up the arm on the sleeve where I’d been cut on the train, so it was usable, now. “When I’m better, I’ll have to give it a shot.”

“I thought you were a footie geek?”

I shrugged. “I dabbled.”

He laughed. “Well, they’ll be really pissed if you beat me before any of them do, but go for it.”

The rest of the drive was made in easy silence before we pulled up to the youth center. It was a fairly large complex with brick walls and a patchwork roof, tin sheets covering some of the spaces with, I assumed, rotting wood or leaks. Double doors with rust-colored paint led into a wide space with four basketball courts; two of them were taken over by a dozen or so circular tables. Kids were dispersed around the room, older adults bent over to help kids with their work, a couple observing and talking off to the side.

“Henry!” I heard a call, and I blinked as this was followed by a dozen turned heads and grins that could lit up the room.

“Hey,” Bear called, grinning himself, and though he was usually very happy and humorous with the rest of us, the look of unabashed fondness in his eyes as he greeted the teenagers and kids that approached him was stupidly happy. “Why are you acting like you haven’t seen me in a month? I was hear a couple days ago!”

“Mate, we never know with you,” one of the older kids said—probably around my (real) age, with dark skin and bright eyes. “You could disappear on one of your top-secret missions again.”

“You know me, I’m James Bond,” Bear laughed, and I had to smile as I watched him interact with the kids, leaning on my crutch as I waited to be introduced. Bear seemed to remember I was there, and I felt the eyes of a dozen kids slide to me, going for a disarming smile as I waved. “This is my friend, Matthew. He’s going to be helping out today.”

Oh. Thank God he’d remembered that. Even I’d forgotten, for a while, that I was still supposed to be Matthew. “Hullo.”

“Sup, mate,” a couple said, and I got some smiles. A couple of them were a little guarded, but I could understand that better than anyone. “How do you know Henry?”

“We work together,” I said vaguely, glancing at Bear for guidance. I didn’t know how much he’d shared about his life, and I didn’t want to overstep.

“Yeah, he’s in my unit,” Bear said, dropping an arm around my shoulders. I hid the flinch in a shift; it wasn’t that Bear made me uncomfortable, just that I hadn’t fully expected it. “He’s a troublemaker, so he’ll fit right in with you.”

“You don’t look old enough to be in the SAS,” a girl said questioningly. She had strawberry blond hair and pale skin, with an American accent.

“I didn’t do well in school, and I didn’t want to suffer through uni,” I responded, sticking to the story I’d given the others. “That’s why you guys need to do well in school, so you don’t end up like us.”

That got some laughs, which put me a little more at ease. “Damn, mate,” Bear said, a look of mock offense on his face. “Don’t lump me in with you.”

I grinned, laughing a little until one of the women who had been observing came over, a look of fond exasperation in her eyes. “Okay, okay, quit crowding them. Get back to work, you lot.”

I heard some groans, some complaints, but for the most part, the kids obediently returned to their tasks, and the woman came over to greet us. “Hi, Henry. How are you?”

“I’m good. This is Matthew; he offered to come help tutor some of the younger kids today,” Bear said, patting my shoulder. “Matthew, this is Bella. She helps manage who the volunteers get paired with.”

“Pleasure,” I said, smiling as she shook my hand.

“Pleasure’s all mine. I’m glad to meet you; Henry usually doesn’t bring people round.”

“God, you make my sound like a hermit,” Bear complained. “I’m going to help Abram. I think he’d do well with Jessamine.”

Bella’s eyebrow quirked up in surprise. “Really? On his first day?”

“Call it intuition,” he shouted, giving me a wink and a wave before he went over to the dark-skinned boy from before; I assumed that was Abram.

I glanced back Bella, a question in my eyes. “Jessamine?”

Bella looked reluctant, but she shrugged, nodding behind me. I turned to see a little girl at the far back table, somewhat isolated from the others. Her skin tone may’ve been Indian in origin, but her name made me think she’d been here for a while, or her parents had; I supposed I wouldn’t know until I met her. She had dark eyes, in more than one sense, and a little scowl. Her hands thumped repeatedly on the table in a nonsensical rhythm, and a pencil and some papers lay to the side, forgotten.

“We think she has a mild intellectual disability, or some kind of learning disability, but she hasn’t been tested yet,” Bella said, her eyes drawn in concern. “She doesn’t talk, but it’s not because of anything medical; they call it selective mutism. None of the volunteers have been able to get through to her. I guess if Henry thinks you can, go for it, but let me know if you’d like to take a break.”

I nodded, a little upset, but unwilling to show it. “Thank you.”

I hobbled my way over to Jessamine. I didn’t think it was particularly fair that Bella highlighted her faults before anything else; that would just deter new volunteers. I sighed a little. I supposed I didn’t know much about it, anyways, but I still thought there were better ways to introduce her.

“Hi,” I said as I sat next to her. She glanced up as I tried to hide the wince as my leg twinged, her lips pursed. “I’m Matthew.”

She didn’t respond, just thumped her fingers on the table. Now that I was closer, it seemed closer to a drumbeat than a nonsensical rhythmic pattern. “Your name’s Jessamine, right?”

Still no response, but a little pause in the drumbeats. I saw her eye twitch at her name.

“Hm,” I said to myself. I glanced at her pages, seeing a science worksheet. Well, I wasn’t horrible at science. It wasn’t my favorite, though; it seemed like basic enough geology. “What are you working on?”

More tapping. I sighed.

“Do you want me to talk, then, and you can listen?” That made her pause. She looked up at me, and for a second, ceased the tapping. “Is that a yes?”

After a hesitant second, she nodded once, putting her hands in her lap. Well, I considered that progress. “How about I ask yes or no questions, and you can nod or shake your head. Is that okay?”

Another hesitant nod. I smiled.

“That’s really good, Jessamine,” I said, and I saw her eye twitch again, her stormy gaze returning. She lifted her hands, I assumed to tap again, but I asked quickly, “Do you not like to be called Jessamine?”

She glanced at me, surprise in her eyes. It took her a full twenty seconds before she could shake her head.

I felt my eyes furrow in concern. She was skittish. I should know. “Okay. Can you tell me what you want me to call you?”

That seemed to make her uncomfortable. She shifted, and for a second, there was fear in her eyes. She shook her head.

I was feeling more concerned, now, but I didn’t want to mess up the little progress we’d made. “Okay, that’s fine. Could I call you Jessie? Or Jess?”

She tiled her head, as though considering, and tapped once on the table. I took me a second to get it, so she did it again, on the verge of looking frustrated. “So…the first one? Jessie?”

She nodded, a shadow of a smile replacing her scowl, and I grinned. “That’s great. It’s nice to meet you, Jessie. I’m Matthew.”

She smiled at that, brighter than before, and I saw a spark of interest in her eyes.

I put the sheets aside for now, figuring there were more pressing matters at hand. “What were you tapping before?” She shrugged, looking flustered, and I mentally kicked myself, reminding myself that they had to be yes or no questions. “Sorry, my mistake. Is it random, or is it like the beat in music?”

That piqued Jessie’s interest, and she started tapping again. I thought I’d lost her for a moment, but upon listening, she was actually tapping a fairly complicated rhythm with both her hands—something like some of the alternative music I listened to.

I grinned, listening to her tap away. That was some fairly advanced skill for someone her age—she couldn’t be anymore than nine. “That’s really good, Jessie. Do you like music?”

She nodded, beaming, and it looked like a completely different little girl than the one I’d seen before. I smiled, and grabbed one of her sheets, flipping over to the blank side. “Do you like to play any other musical instruments? Or do you just like drumming with your fingers?”

She considered, then tapped once for the first one, her brown eyes thoughtful. I took a few seconds to jot down some musical instruments I could think of, then slid the paper to her. “Do you want to circle which one?”

She took the pencil from my outstretched hand, pausing to look at my knuckles. The bruises were mostly gone, but I still had some green and yellow shading on my knuckles. She surprised me by putting the pencil down and taking my hand in both of hers, looking intently at the bruises.

“Jessie?” I asked quietly. I didn’t like the look in her eyes. She looked like I did when I looked in the mirror on bad days—a spark of fear in her eyes. “Is something wrong?”

After a couple seconds, she let go of my hand, then looked at my crutch, her eyes narrowed. Then, she picked up the pencil and started looking at the list without making any other indication that she was interested in my injuries.

I’d have to remember all this for later.

She circled singing, ironically, then slid the paper back to me. “Wow, you like to sing?” She nodded, a remnant of the smile from before on her face. “Me too. I’m not very good, though.” She giggled, and it was the first time I’d heard even a sliver of her voice. It sounded healthy—I didn’t think there was a physical reason she couldn’t talk, like Bella was saying.

I had an idea; I was glad I’d brought my headphones. I fished them out of my pocket, plugging them into my phone. “I know you probably don’t want to sing right now, but do you want to listen to some music? You can tap along to it, if you want.”

Her eyes lit up, and she nodded so hard I thought her head would pop off. I laughed, handing her an earbud and putting one in my own ear, scrolling through my music until I found a song clean enough for a nine-year-old; I settled on _Best Day of My Life_ by American Authors.

The reaction was immediate. She started drumming along with scary accuracy, closing her eyes and nodding her head, a grin on her lips. I let myself relax, too, tapping the foot on my good leg along to the rhythm. We got some odd looks, and a worried glance from Bella, but I caught Bear’s eye and saw him smiling. _I told you so,_ he mouthed, and I rolled my eyes with a smile.

The song finished a couple minutes later, but Jessie kept drumming, looking far too happy with just the one song. “Do you want to listen to another one?” She nodded, grinning. “Then can we work on some of your assignments?” She made a face, and I laughed. That seemed to surprise her, but she nodded anyways.

We listened to _Radioactive_ by Imagine Dragons next, and then, just because she looked so damn happy and I wanted to keep that grin on her face for as long as I could, we listened to _Atlas_ by Coldplay, which she really seemed to enjoy.

“That was fun, wasn’t it?” I said, wrapping my headphones around the phone and putting it back in my pocket, laughing as she nodded. “Okay. You promised we could work on your assignments now, okay?”

She scowled again, but I gave her what I hoped was a patient smile and flipped the first sheet over. Studying a diagram of an ecosystem with accompanying labels.

It took us well over an hour to complete the worksheet with our minimal communication, and I had to remind myself multiple times that patience was key, but she seemed to open up a little more the further along we got. She seemed especially excited when she started getting things right.

I didn’t know how Bella or anyone else could think she had an intellectual disability; I wasn’t very knowledgeable on them, but she seemed quite smart. She just had a different way of communicating, and different priorities; I had a feeling music was her favorite thing to do, but I didn’t see any musical instruments around. I supposed they didn’t have the funding.

“High five, Jessie,” I said as we finally completed the worksheet. She grinned and slapped my hand, and I had to hide a wince as my wrist jolted in pain; I’d forgotten about that. Luckily, she didn’t see. “You did a good job. You’re pretty smart.”

She giggled again, and I was glad to hear her voice.

“Do you want to listen to another song before we start something else?”

It went like that, and we quickly fell into a routine—we’d finish an assignment, listen to a song, and repeat. We’d take a break and listen to another song if she got particularly frustrated with something, which seemed to calm her down, and then we’d move on; usually her clearer head helped her answer right away. She really was very smart.

Bella called a break for lunch a little while later, and a bunch of kids swarmed the table on the far side, piled high with sandwiches and bags of chips and fruit.

“Do you want to get something to eat?” I asked when she didn’t get up.

She tiled her head, nodding thoughtfully, but she still didn’t make a move to get up. She eyed me with something like hesitation. I wondered what she was waiting for. It took me a minute to phrase the question.

“Are you hungry?” Nod. “Do you want to go eat?” Another hesitant nod, but she still didn’t move.

I tapped my fingers on the table, not unlike her, and tilted my head. She was suddenly quiet like before, sullen and staring at the table, her feet twitching arrhythmically her.

“You can go get something to eat, if you want,” I said finally, wondering if she was waiting for me to go with her. “I’ll wait here.”

She glanced up at that and smiled, but it was more reserved than before. More hesitant. Jessie got up and ran over to the table, getting in line behind a couple older girls. One of them patted her head, and she looked up with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“How are you doing?” I heard Bella’s voice behind me, and saw her approaching with Bear. Her eyes were concerned.

“We’re fine,” I said honestly, then handed her the four completed assignments we’d worked on. I didn’t miss her look of blatant surprise, but I continued on, pretending I had. “I don’t think she has an intellectual disability. In fact, she’s really smart. I don’t remember what else you said—learning disability, or something—but I really think she just has trouble communicating. She really likes music, so when she gets frustrated, we stop and listen to a song. And the tapping isn’t random; she’s playing the drums. Also, she likes Jessie better than Jessamine.”

I thought Bella’s jaw may have dislocated.

“Told you,” Bear said, tousling my hair and dropping a sandwich and an apple in front of me. “He’s good with kids.”

“Wow,” Bella said, and I looked down, uncomfortable with the attention. “I guess you were right. Well…thank you, Matthew. I was really worried we were going to have to send her to a specialist.”

“No, she just likes yes and no questions,” I said, glancing in Jessie’s direction. “She also does better with multiple choice than fill in the blank, and she does better if you analogize things to music. That’s how we finished her ecosystems page.”

I glanced back up to see Bella scribbling notes on her sheet, glancing at Jessie every once in a while. “That’s…no one thought of that. Thank you. We’ll try to incorporate more music into her lessons going forward.”

I smiled, glad that they’d try to help her with what she knew. “Good.”

“Has she spoken yet?” Bella asked, a hopeful glint in her eyes.

“No, but I think we’re getting close,” I admitted. “She laughed a couple times.”

“Well, keep doing whatever you’re doing,” Bear said, patting my shoulder with a smile that bordered on proud. I shifted, a little uncomfortable, a little pleased, but he continued as if I hadn’t moved. “Told you you’d be good at this. We’re about to play some basketball, by the way, if you’d care to place your bets.”

“Yes, we know,” I said, waving a hand. “Tell Abram I’m betting on him.”

Bear laughed, leaving for the court, shedding his flannel shirt to reveal a loose white t-shirt. Abram joined him, followed by a couple of the older kids, including the strawberry-blond from before. I assumed she was Campbell.

I heard Jessie sit down and redirected my attention to her as she munched on her sandwich. “Want to listen to music until we finish eating?”

Unsurprisingly, she glowed, and we did. After lunch, we worked on maths, which was a little harder for me, but she breezed through it once I finally got a good communication system down. She was ridiculously smart; I was a little jealous.

“You’re really good at this,” I commented, and she glowed like the sun under such simple words of praise. Thinking back on Bella’s words, I wondered how long it had been since she’d been genuinely praised, and scowled a little to myself. “What do you want to do next?”

I immediately started to correct myself, trying to come up with a yes or no question, but to my surprise, she tugged my sleeve hesitantly. “Um…m…music.”

I blinked, recalibrating. She had a soft little voice, smooth and sweet. Even with her dark skin, I could tell she was blushing furiously, her eyes darting around as her fingers shook, holding my sleeve.

“You…you want to listen to music?” I asked, finally getting my mind back on track. I knew if I made a big deal about it, she’d probably freeze up again. “Or you want to talk about music?”

She tiled her head, her fingers still in my sleeve. “I w-wa…want…want t-to…talk.”

“Okay,” I said, letting her keep her fingers in my sleeve. “What kind of music do you like?”

Jessie seemed the slightest bit more confident, but her voice was still small. “Po…pop. Pop.”

Oh. _Oh_. I finally understood why she didn’t like talking—she had a stutter.

I could tell it wasn’t just from nervousness, or anxiety. I stuttered sometimes, but it was mostly when I was uncomfortable, and nervous or scared. Her stutter sounded a lot more natural. No wonder she didn’t like to talk—she had so much trouble saying what she wanted to. Besides, kids her age were mean, sometimes—I could imagine people probably made fun of her for it. That explained why she liked music so much—it was another form of expression and communication.

In a horrible, revelation-like second, I realized she reminded me of me, in a couple ways.

“That’s cool,” I said, smiling. My natural response seemed to encourage her, because she perked up a little. “I liked alternative music. Do you know what that is?” She shook her head, so I took a couple seconds to explain the style, and she responded that she liked that, too.

“What’s your favorite song?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I-I like…like them all.”

I laughed a little. “Me too. I can’t pick a favorite.”

She giggled at that, and I glanced up to see Bella watching from across the room, eyes wide. I gave her a subtle thumbs-up to confirm that yes, she was talking, and Bella’s eyes filled with something like joy.

I was glad I could do something for them. Jessie was a great kid.

“Jessie,” I said, knowing I probably wouldn’t get another chance to ask her, and knowing that the question needed to be asked. “Why don’t you like to talk?”

Jessie glanced at me in surprise. I knew I had a bad habit of keeping my face blank when I wasn’t talking, but I tried to be expressive now, at least a little. I tried to look open and encouraging, even though embarrassment was squirming in my gut.

Jessie started tapping again, letting go of my sleeve, her eyes a little bit scared. I recognized that look, too.

A bad feeling sank to the bottom of my stomach where it settled, and festered.

“Nobody…body…listens,” she said quietly.

I heard a snap, but I thought it was mostly in my head; I think my heart broke a little at the utter defeat in her eyes. The acceptance. The resolution that since no one had listened to her, since no one had the decency to sit down and patiently wait out her stumbles and struggles, she had decided to just…quit talking. She’d decided instead to speak through drumbeats and inconspicuous music, and nobody listened to that, either. How long until she stopped her drumbeats? How long until she stopped communicating altogether?

“Jessie?” I asked, waiting until she looked up at me. I reached out, making sure she could see me and my movements, and took her hand. She stared at it for a long second. “I’m listening.”

She didn’t talk for almost two full minutes, but I didn’t either, because I promised I’d listen. I knew what it was like to be ignored. My mind called up memories in Blunt’s office, of my reluctance and my fear and later on, my terror and my staunch refusal, and I remembered being subsequently blackmailed and ignored. I remembered talking to that awful psychologist and being ignored. I remembered floating through homeless shelters and halfway houses and being ignored.

I remembered the thoughts in my head screaming, shouting for someone to hear me, see me, _help me_ , and I was always ignored. Until recently, anyways.

Still, I knew how horrible it was to need help, and to watch a thousand backs turn toward you until one day, you found yourself alone. Until one day, you could scream all you want, and were no longer ignored—you just weren’t heard.

I didn’t want Jessie to end up like me, so I listened.

It took her a long time to speak, and when she did, she was looking at my knuckles again. “Someone…one…h-hurt y-you?”

I nodded, eyes drawn in concern. “They did. But I’m getting better.”

Jessie’s eyes filled with tears, and she sniffed. I saw the determination in her eyes, the stubbornness to keep them in, but I could tell the second she broke. “Someone h-hurt m-me…me t-too.”

Another snap. This time, of my temper. It was a wonder I could keep the reaction as calm as I did, settling the rage in my gut with a calming breath. I was pulled back to that day in the park, with Jonah and Lion and his God-awful father, but I wouldn’t let myself react how I did then. Jessie didn’t need that.

“Thanks for telling me,” I said, because I knew how uncertain and anxious one felt when they revealed something like that. She didn’t look at me, but her fingers tightened on my hand. “Can you tell me what happened?”

And Jessie did. In stuttered speech, slowly but surely, she told me everything. Once she started, she couldn’t seem to stop. I wondered how long it had been since she’d talked to someone, because it seemed like a dam had been broken, and everything was flowing out now.

Her mum, Mahika, was a saint. Through and through, according to Jessie. A wonderful woman with a kind heart. Her mum’s boyfriend was a different story. The man, Vihaan, was not. He’d come into their lives unexpectedly and uninvited, and had stayed, leeching money from Mahika and threatening Jessie when Mahika couldn’t follow through. Mahika was in the process of getting them away, getting them safe, but she couldn’t gather the money, Jessie said. She was trying so hard, Jessie said, but it was Jessie’s fault she got hurt, because Vihaan said she was a bad girl. It was her fault because she wasn’t acting right.

 _You get hurt so often because you don’t do your job properly_ , Alan Blunt once said when I brought up the ludicrous number of times I’d been hospitalized since working for them. _Once you start learning to observe instead of act, as we send you to do, you’ll be fine_.

Vihaan was very, very lucky I didn’t know where to find him.

“Jessie,” I said quietly, waiting for teary eyes to focus on me. “I know you don’t know me very well, and that’s okay. But I haven’t lied to you yet, have I?”

Confused, she shook her head.

“It’s not your fault. Your mum is trying her best, and you’re doing your best. Vihaan is a very bad man who makes very bad decisions, but that doesn’t mean it’s your fault. It’s his decisions. If I hit someone, then said it was because they annoyed me, would that make sense? Would it be his fault?”

She shook her head again.

“Then how is it your fault?”

I supposed I should’ve expected the reaction, but it startled me all the same. Skinny arms wound around my neck in a fierce, desperate hug, and all I could do was wrap my arms around her as she started to sob. I tried to hide the groan of pain as she all but knelt on my bullet wound, but I knew there were bigger issues.

The sound immediately drew eyes from all over the room, especially the adults. The kids looked startled, but I tried to warn them away with a look of thin disapproval, and it mostly worked. I saw some of the volunteers corral the kids back to their tasks, and I saw Bear hand the basketball to Abram and jog in my direction, closely followed by Bella.

“What happened?” Bella asked, her eyes alight in worry. She put a hand on Jessie’s back, looking startled. “Jessami—Jessie? Love, what’s wrong?”

Jessie shook her head into my shoulder, and I felt the tears soaking through my tee-shirt. “Jessie?” I said softly. I knew I’d have to tell them, but I wanted her to know first. “Can I tell them what you told me? They’ll be able to help.” They had to be able to help. They had to be…mandatory reporters, or something. That was a thing in the US.

Silently, punctuated with a sniffle, Jessie nodded. “Mm…Mm-hm.”

Hesitantly, I put my fingers to her hair, trying to calm her down. At least, it made me feel warm when one of the others tousled my hair. Jessie seemed to be alright with it, so I scratched her scalp with my nonexistent nails, remembering how Jack would calm me down after nightmares.

I took a deep breath, and I recounted what Jessie had told me. I watched Bear’s eyes darken, and I saw his knuckles go white even with his dark skin. His jaw clenched, and his eyebrow twitched more the longer I spoke. Bella’s face, in comparison, fell, her eyes falling with each word.

When I was done, Jessie was quieter, still cocooned in my arms. The close contact made me uncomfortable, and I wasn’t sure I was the right person to be comforting her, but she didn’t seem to be letting go anytime soon.

“Jessie,” Bella said quietly, crouching beside me. I leaned away from her, partially to give her more access to Jessie, partially because I wasn’t comfortable with her so close to me. “Sweetie. I’m going to call your mum, and we’re going to work it out. Okay?”

Jessie, still sniffling, nodded.

“Do you want to listen to some music?” I asked softly. She nodded. I disentangled myself long enough for me to fish out my headphones, popping both in her ears and adjusting the volume before I hit shuffle on one of my clean albums. I felt her relax immediately, tapping shaking fingers on the back of my shoulders.

“Alex?” I looked up to see Bear standing over me, still angry, still concerned. Bella was crossing the room to her phone.

“I’m okay,” I said, reading the question in his eyes. I didn’t know for sure if I was—the memories this conversation had dredged up were still poignantly painful—but I had to be, for now. “I just want to make sure she and her mum get help. Please just… _please_ make sure that happens, Henry.”

I didn’t think I’d ever used his first name. I looked up at him, and for just a split second, I let the desperation show in my gaze, and I let me walls down, and I let him know just how much I wanted to help this little girl. I spoke, and I shouted to be heard.

And Bear listened.

“I swear,” he said, and I could see the promise in his eyes. I let out a shuddering breath, readjusting Jessie in my arms. I spoke, and he listened.

Bear’s promise was enough for me.

…

Jessie’s mother had shown up soon, the Indian woman tearful and frightened, but Bella and Bear had been quick to assure her that they’d already been in contact with the police, and she could file a report, if she wanted. Bella offered to go with her. Jessie had fallen asleep on top of me, and while my leg was positively _throbbing_ , I didn’t have the heart to move her until her mum got there.

As soon as Jessie woke up, she ran to her mum sobbing, and her mum was trying valiantly to hold it together. Luckily, Bear’s easy temperament put her at ease until a constable arrived, and they talked outside under one of the trees to keep away from the prying eyes of the kids. Once they were outside, I saw Bella’s hands shake, and Bear gave her a hug, whispering something in her ear. She nodded something, and I looked away, feeling like an intruder.

“How did you get her to open up?” Bella asked as Bear and I got ready to leave. Bear said I’d had too much excitement for the day, but he probably knew that I was getting pretty uncomfortable, and the memories weren’t helping.

I fixed Bella with a long look. I wasn’t…angry, but I guess I was a little upset. She worked with kids all the time; she should’ve done something sooner. I knew that wasn’t fair, but my personal feelings were very much getting in the way, and I was a little bitter. “I listened.”

I let her think about that as I adjusted myself on my crutch, Bear gathering my windbreaker. “Let’s go, mate.”

I breathed slowly, trying to calm my racing heart. “Yeah.”

On the way out, I heard a shout, and then I was body-slammed by a nine-year-old. “ _Oomph_ ,” I said, my leg throbbing. I looked down to find Jessie’s arms around my waist, and put a hand on her head, smiling a little. “Hey, Jessie.”

“Thank…thank y-you, Matthew,” she said quietly, looking up at me with a smile. “Will you…you come b-back?”

I paused, glancing at Bear, who shrugged, giving me a knowing smile.

I chuckled, ruffing her hair. “Sure. I’ll try, Jessie. Thanks for talking to me.”

She grinned, and her eyes were bright. So much brighter than the isolated little girl I’d seen when I walked in. “Th-thanks…for listening.”

I smiled down at her, feeling light, and heavy. “Of course.” _I wish someone had listened before me_.

She ran back to her mum, who sent me a grateful smile, still talking with the constable. I looked at them for a long second. “Bear, make sure they’re okay.” It wasn’t a request.

“I will,” he said, putting a hand on my back. “Let’s get you home, mate.”

I didn’t correct him on his word choice, but I was too out of it, really.

The ride back was quiet, and thoughtful.

“How did you know?” Bear asked finally, his eyes pinched in concern. “We’ve all tried to get through to her, but she never responded to any of us. She just kept tapping. We thought for a while she just didn’t know how to communicate.”

“She didn’t want to,” I said thoughtfully, my head resting on the cool glass window. “She said nobody listened, so she stopped talking. I guess…I knew what to do because she…reminded me of me. I…I listened.”

I saw Bear’s hands clench the steering wheel a little tighter, his jaw locked. He looked like he was desperately trying to keep a lid on his anger, but I didn’t know why.

“Bear?” I asked finally.

“Did he—your uncle…did he…?”

“Oh,” I said, eyes going wide. “No. God, no. No, my uncle was great, Bear. He never, ever hurt me. I swear.”

Something relaxed in his eyes, but there was still a glint of steel anger. “Okay. Okay. Good.”

I relaxed, glad he’d calmed down. “No, it…nobody ever…hurt me like that. Not the same people.”

He was quiet for a minute. “Do you want to keep going?”

I felt my eyes scrunch in indecision, tapping my fingers, not unlike Jessie. “Nobody ever hurt me like that. There were some people who…who constantly…let me be hurt. I know it’s not the same, but…she was kind of acting like me. Skittish, and flighty. She kept looking at my hand, at the bruises. And she said nobody listened to her, and…and I know what that’s like. To ask for help and be ignored.”

Bear’s jaw was locked again, but his eyes, always so expressive, were carefully blank. I fidgeted with my hands, looking out the window, the slush from the earlier rain clogging the streets with half-melted ice.

“I don’t mean you,” I said quickly, realizing how it sounded. “Not you, or Lion or Tiger. You guys are great,” I said with a smile. “It was…before. A couple years ago. They didn’t listen to me when I told them how badly I was being hurt, and it…kept happening until something happened that…couldn’t be fixed.” I blinked as quickly as I could, fire consuming the space behind my eyes, bright red hair billowing up with the flames, and I had to clench the door handle until it passed.

“You can stop if you need to,” he said quietly.

I nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Thanks for telling me.”

I smiled. “Thanks for listening.”

…

I took one of my prescription pain killers when we got back to the flat, opting to lie down for a while. Tiger and Lion were on their way back, Bear informed me, so we ate dinner without them and then I went to take a nap. I was bloody exhausted.

“You’ll tell me if you hear anything?” I asked, fixing him with a look.

“I will. Promise,” he said, flipping on the tellie with a smile. “You’ll be the first to know.”

I nodded, going to lie down, but sleep was elusive. I kept thinking of Jessie. That sweet little girl who just had problems communicating, and I’d give anything to make sure she didn’t end up like me.

I smirked to myself. Well…I guessed I was alright, now. But I never wanted her to experience what the last few years had been like for me. I hoped they could work everything out. If not…well, I wouldn’t go nearly as far as I had with Lion’s father, but I could pay Vihaan a visit, perhaps. I was sure Smithers could find his information.

I texted Tom, hoping some mindless conversation would help me feel better. _How are you?_

The response was almost immediate. _awesome rhea and i r going 2 the park latr_

I smiled, already feeling my chest ease. _Good for you. No gelato?_

_gelato after depending on how the park goes_

I laughed under my breath, sending a thumbs up. _Let me know how it goes_.

He replied with a fingers-crossed emoji, but I heard the door open before Lion and Tiger got back. I heard a couple pleasantries, and I heard them ask where I was; Bear said something like I was resting, because I’d had a long day. I heard a question, and then an abridged version of the events, and a hesitant synopsis of my confessions in the car.

I wasn’t upset that Bear had told them; I’d long since come to terms with the fact that what I told one of them, I told all of them, sans the issue with my weight that Tiger knew about. Still, it was odd hearing my words in someone else’s voice. He was clinical about it, but I could hear the stress in his tone.

There was quiet for a few moments. Quiet, tense voices floated from the living room.

I lay on the bed listening, breathing quietly. I didn’t know what they were talking about; I couldn’t hear anymore. Maybe they knew I had a knack for listening in.

There was some more discussion, but it unnerved me to not know what was being said, so I abandoned the notion of sleep and went out into the living room. I left my crutch; the first few steps told me it was a bad idea, but my stubbornness won out.

“you idiot,” Bear scowled when he saw me limping.

“That’s me,” I conceded, smiling towards Lion and Tiger, who were on the couch. They looked tired. “How was the meeting?” I didn’t give them a chance to ask questions.

Tiger sat up straighter, sending Lion a knowing look, and Bear shifted. “Informative,” Tiger said.

I blinked. “Is that supposed to…mean something?”

“Basically, we’re being called back to active duty for two weeks,” Lion said, shrugging one shoulder, his face flat. “There’s an emergency in Budapest, and they need a unit.”

My heart shuddered a little, but I hid it well enough. “Oh. Um…I’ll run comms or something, or snipe from somewhere, I suppose. Did the Sergeant say what the mission was?”

It took me a second to register the incredulous looks on their faces. “What?”

“You’re not going, Jag,” Bear said, his tone disbelieving. “God, did you really think we’d put you in an active warzone when you’re still recovering?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. “Um…I guess…?”

“When the day comes and you finally tell us who was in charge of you, for whatever you did, I’m going to commit a crime,” Tiger mumbled. “Son of a bitch. No, kid, you’re not going. We were just talking about options for you.”

“Options…?”

“To stay while we’re gone,” Lion said, his face still pinched in surprise, and concern. “But we didn’t want to decide anything without you.”

I blinked in surprise. I supposed thinking about everything MI6 had done had put me back in that mindset for a while. I shook my head a little, running a hand through my hair. “Oh. Um…sorry. I can just stay here.”

“No, not by yourself, not while you’re still recovering,” Bear said firmly. “Plus, you have a PT appointment coming up, and another therapy session. You’ll need someone to drive you.”

“I’ll take a taxi,” I said, shifting. I was getting uncomfortable. “I don’t need a babysitter, guys.”

“We know, but you’re still hurt, Alex,” Lion said reasonably. “It would make us feel better knowing we didn’t have to worry about you while we were in an active warzone.”

I scowled. Damn. How could I argue with that?

“Just…I dunno…I can…” I stammered, but my brain was empty. I didn’t have anywhere to stay, and I didn’t want to stay with strangers. “I’m really fine here.”

“No,” Tiger said. I scowled again.

“Well, we were thinking…if you’re okay with it and they’re okay with it…you could stay with K-Unit,” Lion said carefully, watching my face like a hawk.

I paused, completely thrown. I hadn’t expected that at all.

“Um.”

“Oh, he’s broken,” Bear said, dragging a hand down his face. “It would only be for a week or so. Not forever.”

“Uh, I—I…”

“If you’re uncomfortable, we can figure something out,” Lion said decisively, Tiger nodding in agreement. “The last thing I want to do is put you somewhere you don’t feel safe, okay? But I need you to talk to me.”

I tapped my fingers on the armchair, remembering Jessie. “It’s not that—that I won’t feel safe,” I said carefully. “I—if that’s…the easiest option, that’s fine.”

Lion’s eyes were narrowed in thoughtful concern. “Are you _sure_?”

“Yeah,” I said after a few long seconds. “Yeah. Fox and I are fine, and Snake’s been over a couple times. Plus Wolf and I are on pretty good terms, and Eagle seems fine.”

Lion searched my face for a few more seconds, but he must not have found what he was looking for, because he sighed. “Alright. If you’re sure.”

I nodded, completely unsure.

“Okay. I’ll call Wolf.”

Lion left for the kitchen, and Tiger stretched. “You okay? Bear said you guys had a long day.”

I shrugged. “I’m fine.” I didn’t feel like talking much about it until I knew Jessie and her mum would be okay.

Tiger nodded. “Okay.”

I fiddled with the sleeves of my long-sleeved shirt until Lion got back, saying that Wolf had said it was fine if I stayed with them, and they’d drop me off tomorrow morning on their way out of town. I nodded, going for a smile, but Lion was still watching me. I knew I couldn’t fool him, but I could try.

I wasn’t…scared. I just knew that…questions were much harder to evade when you lived with people, as L-Unit had so artfully proven. And I wasn’t sure how much I could safely divulge when Fox would be there, and he knew so much.

And…and my unit would be going into an active warzone. Without me.

I knew it was stupid, I _knew_ it was clingy and irrational, but I wanted to be there. I wanted to be there to watch their backs and make sure they came back okay, because I couldn’t lose them. If I lost them, any of them, I would completely unravel.

I could feel the tension in my shoulders, but I forced myself to relax, enjoying the night before they left. I For a few minutes, I let myself forget about Jessie and her mum, MI6, K-Unit, everything. I needed to savor moments like these more often.

I just had to convince myself that…that they would be fine. As long as they were fine, everything would be okay, and I held onto that tighter than anything else I ever had.

As long as they were fine, everything would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Heyo! Long chapter, and I started it…twelve hours ago! My hands hurt lol. Anyways, I know this kind of seemed random, but Bear would totally take Alex to the youth center, and he knows how much Jonah liked him; Bear would totally stick Alex with a problem kid. “Problem kid.” Don’t worry, Jessie and her mum are going to be just fine :) Plus, we’re setting this up for a later topic.
> 
> Hehe. K-Unit is on the way XD More of their stories! :D
> 
> Anyways, thanks so much for the continued influx of support!
> 
> Thank you all so much! Please review! Love you guys!


	28. Chapter 28

I dropped a paperback into my duffle and zipped it up, glancing around the room, uneasy.

Now that I’d packed up my meager belongings for the two weeks at K-Unit’s, it really did look like a guest room. I made the bed, hobbling around, reluctant to use my crutch. I knew it was irrational, but I didn’t really want to use my crutch in front of K-Unit—I didn’t want to seem any more vulnerable than I already felt. I knew Bear would make me take it, but I could just leave it in a corner for the duration of my stay, or something.

Damn. Snake would probably make me use it, too.

I paused, sinking back onto the bed, getting my pictures and my gun out of my nightstand. I still didn’t have a picture with L-Unit, but I was too embarrassed to ask for one. I just…didn’t like not having one, for some reason. I didn’t like knowing that they were going away, and I would have effectively no tie to them.

I scowled. I sounded like a little kid. I felt like one, too.

I’d woken Lion and Bear last night with a nightmare, which had been thoroughly humiliating. I’d shouted once in my sleep before I’d fully woken up, sweating and shaking, and Lion had burst in just a few seconds later, followed by Bear; they’d thought someone had broken in.

I’d assured them I was fine. It wasn’t very convincing, as I’d been sweating and trembling and pale, but I’d stuck to the platitude anyways. Bear went back to bed quickly (he always had a hard time waking up) but Lion stayed for a few minutes until I finally kicked him out. Tiger, unsurprisingly, slept through the whole thing.

The nightmare had been different, and as I lay in bed trembling in the wake of it, I realized I had made a lot of mistakes, and this was one of them.

This was the first nightmare I’d had where L-Unit was killed.

My nightmares, instead of working through stress or the things I was worried about, were usually vivid recollections of one of my many traumas. Maybe it was a bit altered, maybe my mind conjured some extra things, but everything in the nightmares had roots in true events. They were horrible, but they were based on fact.

This one was different.

I lay in bed, blinking at the ceiling, my breathing still jagged as I tried to calm down. My leg ached, my chest ached, and my hands shook.

We’d been on a mission, the four of us. I’d screwed up. They’d died.

The details, already washed out by the reality of consciousness, didn’t matter, but the message did.

I thought, and thought, and thought furiously. I considered all the ways I’d changed over the past few months with them and how much I loved being here and being safe and being with _them_. I thought of how I’d reconciled with Tom, how I finally had a—an almost-family to call my own, how even though I was still terrified of SCORPIA and MI6, I had a place and people and a _life_ now.

And, for the first time, I truly considered just how dangerous that was.

My thoughts continued raging, and sleep was slow to come. The absence of nightmares, instead of comforting, was reminiscent of the deadly calm before the deadlier storm.

Now, I sat on the bed, pondering my place here and with K-Unit and in _Cookham_. I sat and I thought, but my mind kept going in circles. The smartest thing to do would be to _run_. Now. Stupidly, this was the perfect time—once L-Unit was in the midst of their mission, K-Unit would be unable to contact them. L-Unit would have an easier time finding me than K-Unit. It was the liminal period I needed to disappear.

And I was well and truly fucked, because I couldn’t seize that moment.

I’d promised Tom. I’d promised Tom, and I’d promised myself. I’d promised L-Unit. I’d devastate them—Tiger and Lion and Bear.

I couldn’t bring myself to leave them.

So now, in the wake of the startling reality that was my precarious existence, I was trapped.

“Almost ready?”

I started at the voice in the doorway, my heart thudding erratically until I met Lion’s concerned eyes.

I nodded, lips pressed into a thin, resigned line.

Lion’s gaze darkened, concerned and displeased. “We can still find you somewhere else to stay, Alex. You just have to say the word.”

“I…it’s really fine,” I said, the warble in my voice less than convincing. “I just…it’s weird.”

Lion looked more than a little skeptical, but sighed. After a moment of hesitation, a hesitant hand carding through his hair, he took a deep breath. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure.”

Lion pulled the door just shy of closed, shoving his hands in his pockets. His face was stonily blank—that was the first thing to put me on my guard. “Lion?”

He sat down next to me, leaving a bit of space between us. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, his eyes tightening in indecision. I waited, teetering on the edges of curiosity and suspicion. He usually didn’t have such a hard time starting conversations, even hard ones—that was more Tiger’s trademark.

“Lion?” I said again, getting nervous.

He sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair again. “I don’t—I don’t want to dredge anything up, or start anything just before we leave,” he started carefully, “but I think I need to…talk to Snake, or Fox, if that would make you more comfortable. About…what happened.”

I blinked, a little confused. “Snake already knows about my injuries. He’s been helping Bear. And Fox knows a bit anyways.”

“Not that.”

I blinked again. “I don’t understand.”

“Alex, you tried to—to— _shit_. You tried to hurt yourself not three weeks ago, and now we’re all leaving for two weeks,” he finally admitted, words mashed together in a rush of air, so quick I had to strain to understand him.

But I did. I did, and it was…sobering.

The realization was somewhat striking, and I had to take a couple seconds to let it sink in. I could—kind of understand. I hadn’t thought about it, I’d repressed it as best I could because it was terrifying to even think about now, but—I’d been almost completely committed to ending my own life three weeks ago, and I’d been prepared to allow myself to bleed to death on a dark bridge alone.

And now that Tom was back in Italy, the only people who knew who could do anything about it, should my mind descend back into that awful place, would be unreachable.

I swallowed, the gravity of the situation hitting me all at once, and steeled myself.

“You don’t…you don’t have to do that,” I tried to assure him, but it sounded weak even to my ears. I cleared my throat. “That is—you don’t have to worry.”

“Recovery isn’t that quick,” Lion said, looking at me intently, eyes steadfast and careful and so much more concerned than I deserved. “You’re not going to be able to reach us, and I’m really scared to leave you without someone who knows. I just—” He scrubbed a frustrated hand down his face, looking uncomfortable and frightened all in one go. “I knew, and I still couldn’t stop it last time. I can’t make that mistake again.”

I flinched, looking away, and tried to gather my thoughts. I couldn’t let K-Unit find out. Not so soon, not when I still didn’t really trust them—that was far too much for them to know, even if it was just Snake and Fox. But the wrecked look in Lion’s eyes when I’d woken up half-dead on the couch just a few weeks ago, the blaze of fury in Bear’s eyes as he cataloged my injuries, the defeated nature of Tiger’s posture as I admitted my intentions…I could understand, a little bit, their concern.

I didn’t know how to make Lion understand that it wasn’t his fault, was never and would never be his fault, but…I figured that was a conversation for another day.

“You don’t have to worry,” I said quietly, but I packed the small sentence with all the affirmation and determination I could muster. I caught Lion’s eye as he looked at me, still unsteady, but listening. “I promised. I promised Tom I wouldn’t leave him again, and…and that counts. And I—”

I stopped, blinking, tightening my throbbing fingers in the bedspread I’d just smoothed out. I glanced around the room—the room that shouldn’t be mine but was becoming so at a startling pace, in the flat that wasn’t home but came dangerously close, with the people that shouldn’t be family but were perilously similar.

I looked back at Lion, swallowing my survival instincts, and said, “I couldn’t do that to you. Not again.”

For a long moment, Lion searched my face. I held his gaze even as his eyes bored into me, on the verge of desperate as he looked for something to contradict my words. I supposed he didn’t find anything, because something in Lion’s tight shoulders clicked loose, and they slumped, accompanied by a whoosh of air completely at odds with the soldier’s usual demeanor. I remembered that look from that day after—after what I’d almost done.

“Okay. I—okay,” he conceded, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay. If that changes—promise me you’ll call Tom, or tell someone, or—hell, call the Sergeant and tell him you need us. Just don’t try to take it on alone, like last time.”

I flinched at his last stipulation, and he saw. Of course, he saw—while Bear could be startlingly obtuse at times, and Tiger wasn’t very observant, Lion almost always saw.

“Alex?” His voice had a tone of muted warning and wavering worry.

My nightmare flashed in my eyes, a negative of a painfully vivid atrocity, and I blinked the fluorescent splotches away.

“I promise to tell someone,” I said carefully, watching his reaction.

Lion’s eyes narrowed. “But you don’t promise to let someone help you handle it.”

“I can’t promise that,” I admitted. “But I can promise to…to try. And if I have to leave, I can promise to come back, when it’s safe. Or—or contact you, or something. But…no, I can’t promise that.”

I held his gaze, steady and unwavering. I couldn’t promise to knowingly put them or K-Unit or Tom in danger if I could avoid it. Not ever, but especially not after last night. I had no idea what the future held for me, but I refused to let it ruin their lives—what these incredible soldiers had built for themselves after being dealt shit hands. I couldn’t live with myself.

Lion sighed through his nose, holding my gaze. It was deep, and thoughtful, but it was resigned, nonetheless.

“…okay,” he conceded. He palmed the hair back from my forehead, letting his hand linger on the crown of my head, and I gave him a smile, trying to reassure him. “You’re gonna put me in an early grave, kid.”

The smile was wiped from my face with startling efficiency.

That time, he didn’t see.

…

K-Unit’s flat was both startlingly similar to and fundamentally opposite of L-Unit’s.

The layout was mostly the same—four bedrooms and a bathroom packed in one back hallway and a short foyer that spilled into an adjacent kitchen and living area. Pockets of personality dotted the space: a couple pictures, a wilting plant (so oddly reminiscent of the perpetually wilting plant in the center of L-Unit’s glass table that I had to do a double take), and other knickknacks and books.

Unlike L-Unit’s sofa, their couch conveniently held a pull-out bed, which was already done up with fresh sheets. I was willing to bet every penny to my name that it was Snake’s handiwork.

There was another stark difference, one that left me feeling almost weak in the realization—every time I walked through L-Unit’s front door, an incomprehensible feeling of safety washed over me. It had happened so many times I’d almost grown used to it.

Now, walking into the almost identical flat without that feeling, the difference was painstakingly obvious.

K-Unit was waiting when we arrived. It was a mostly professional greeting, though I exchanged smiles with Snake and Fox. Fox took my bag and put it by the bad as we walked in. Bear had made me bring my crutch, so I staggered along behind my unit as we filed into the living room.

“Sorry, we can’t stay long,” Lion said with an apologetic smile. “Sarge wants us on the move in the next half hour. Jag, do you have everything you need? Meds, books, whatever?”

I nodded after a second of thought, glancing between the three of them with something like fuzzy desperation that I kept caged in my mind. I couldn’t let them see how badly I wanted them to stay, or how badly I wanted to go with them. This was their job, and they had to do it, and I was injured. Those were the facts that led to the current situation.

But the thought of them in danger without me, though stupid and childish and immature, was crippling.

“Snake has all your dosages and exercises, right?” Bear asked, looking between me and Snake. “He’s a bit inconsistent with his meds.”

I scowled, smacking his hip—the only thing I could reach sitting down—with my crutch.

Eagle snorted as Snake smirked a little. “Yeah, I’ve go’ i’ all. Not getting out o’ this one, Cub.”

I rolled my eyes, and Wolf laughed under his breath.

“He’s not going to be any trouble, right?” Tiger said with a pointed look in my direction.

“God, you make it sound like I’m going to throw a bloody rager with all the nearest university students,” I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“I think we can handle it, whatever it is,” Fox commented with a grin in my direction, ignoring my sharp look. “We’ll take good care of him. You focus on whatever your mission is.”

Lion hesitated, then nodded, the barest of smiles on his face. Well, at least he was beginning to warm up to Fox. “Yeah, we will.”

Bear glanced at his watch. “We should get going. Traffic into London is going to be a bitch.”

I’d expected the words, the departure, but it still felt wrong.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” I said decisively, hefting myself onto my crutch and moving in that direction before anyone could stop me.

They stopped just outside the door’s threshold, and I knew I was being bloody dramatic, but it felt like a chasm.

“By the way, I gave Bella your number,” Bear commented, leaning against the doorjamb. “In case there’s any news on Jessie and her mum.”

I blinked, surprised. “Oh. Thanks.” That was all I could manage. Anxiety was a writhing mass in my stomach, and it was so _stupid_ and childish, but I couldn’t tone it down.

“It’s going to be fine, Alex,” Bear said, sensing my anxiety. He ducked his head a bit to look at me, smiling. “Just be your broody self and you’ll hold off the questions just fine.”

I smirked a little, looking away, then back. Nervousness ate at my fingertips. “You’re coming back.”

Once again, I couldn’t ask the question, but I could let them confirm the answer.

“We’re coming back,” Tiger affirmed with a serious nod. “Before you know it, kid. Just don’t get into any trouble while we’re gone.”

“You neither,” I agreed. I was about to give them a final goodbye, one last wave and a hesitant smile and a prayer to Lion’s God that they’d make it back in one piece, when I remembered.

I must have started physically in the realization, because Lion’s eyes narrowed. “Wait here,” I said before they could say anything. “Just—just don’t leave yet.” I ignored Bear’s admonishment as I abandoned my crutch to the corner and hobbled back to my duffle fishing around inside it before I emerged with my prize, ignoring K-Unit’s stares.

I got back to the doorway and retrieved my crutch, my leg aching from the movement, and handed the object to Lion.

He took it, his eyebrows drawn in confusion. “What’s this?”

It was a hefty silver watch with several buttons hidden in the links and on the sides, a specially crafted gift from Smithers—a parting gift, he said, since he doubted he’d get to make me anymore gadgets.

“Just in case,” I said, taking it back in my hands. I’d never wanted to use it, never really needed to, but I figured it would protect them just a little more than I could. “This button will send out a distress signal to the nearest national intelligence agency in two hundred miles,” I said, fingering the faint red spring between the second and third links. “This one will automatically pull up a map of the surrounding terrain, this one will activate a bug-sized drone to carry information or messages, and this one—”

I paused, remembering the sober look on Smithers’ face as he explained it. “This one will contact—someone who can help.” It would directly alert MI6 of my location, no matter where I was. I’d been hesitant to accept the watch over that fact alone, but he’d assured me it wouldn’t be activated without my permission, if and when I needed it. It would appear with my name—MI6 would come running. It didn’t really matter that they wouldn’t find me, but L-Unit—they’d launch an investigation for my name, and they’d probably find me. But…if they needed to use it that badly, I’d much rather deal with the aftermath than the alternative. “They’ll have the resources and manpower to get you out quickly, if you really need it. But it’s only for the worst of the worst situations.”

I handed it back to Lion, looking up when he didn’t take it. His eyes were wide in surprised concern. “That sounds like something you may need,” he defended, putting up his hands as if to ward off the watch. I watched the curiosity flit across his eyes, replaced with confusion and concern. “I don’t know why you have it, or who made it, but you might need it. And it sounds important.”

“Then you’ll have to make sure to return it to me,” I said, pressing it into his hand before he could protest again. Bear and Tiger watched with curious concern, glancing at me and the watch. “I haven’t used it yet. I’ll be okay for two weeks. This will make me feel better.”

“But what if you need it?” Bear asked pointedly, shoulders a little tighter than before. “They found you once. They can find you again, even if you’re here.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Lion’s eyes were tight in hesitance and indecision. “Alex, I don’t know—”

“Please,” I said finally, swallowing my pride. If this was all I could do for them…I had to do something to ease the blistering anxiety in my gut. “Just take it.”

Lion fingered the watch, then took a slow breath, slipping it onto his wrist. It snapped into place, and he looked at it, then at me. “Okay. Just—God, just be careful, kid.”

I released a breath of relief, closing my eyes momentarily. “Thank you. I will.”

Lion lingered another moment, eyes fixed on me like I would disappear, then finally turned to leave. He didn’t look back. I had a feeling, from our conversation earlier, that he didn’t want to leave me almost as much as I didn’t want to leave him.

“Take care of yourself,” Bear said, ruffling my hair with a surprisingly gentle hand. “We’ll be back soon.”

Tiger nodded, and gave me a shadow of a smile, and they descended down the staircase after Lion.

And they were gone.

…

“If you don’t stop bouncing your bloody leg, I’m going to tie you down,” Wolf muttered from one of the recliners, tapping the remote in his hand. “You’re driving me mad.”

I froze, sending him a glance. Slowly, I forced my left leg to quiet, tapping my fingers instead.

I couldn’t stop bloody shaking, but I could hide it.

I supposed I’d underestimated just how reliant I’d become on the presence of L-Unit. It made me nervous in and of itself—the startling level of dependence brought to light by their absence—and I knew how incredibly dangerous it was. I was willing to bet money that any psychiatrist worth their salt would call it an unhealthy attachment.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t do anything about it now, especially not when they were gone.

“They’re probably no’ even en route to the mission location yet,” Snake commented, glancing up from the kitchen table, where he had a couple textbooks and some notebooks sprawled in front of him. He gave me a calm smile, which slightly eased the writhing mass in my gut. “Try to save some o’ that worry for later, yeh?”

After a couple seconds, I gave what probably sounded like a frustrated sigh, trying to calm my fidgeting hands.

“Yeah, fine,” I mumbled, digging a paperback out of my duffle. There wasn’t much to do—it wasn’t like I could really go out alone, because they probably wouldn’t let me and I couldn’t travel very far, and it’s not like I had a room to retreat to. The living room would be my space for two weeks. That would kind of suck—I’d grown quite used to having a place of privacy. It reminded me of the shelters and halfway houses in America, in an uncomfortably poignant way.

I supposed if I couldn’t do anything about it, I could at least distract myself.

The first half of the first day had passed in surprisingly tolerable silence. Eagle went to his girlfriend’s quite early, which seemed to be the norm for him when he was home, and Fox had sat with me for a while before going on a run. He’d been smart enough not to ask my any compromising questions around the others, but the look in his eyes—the look that said _I know for a fact there are things you aren’t telling me and I’ll get my answers eventually_ —still made me nervous. Somehow I didn’t think Bear’s advice of being broody and silent would be enough to ward him off.

Wolf made breakfast, as L-Unit had dropped me off ridiculously early, and it wasn’t too bad. Snake was cramming for some medical exam, and had been for several hours—I supposed it was coming up soon.

I managed to get a few dozen pages into my book before Wolf growled softly, flicking off the tellie. “I can’t sit here and do nothing for much longer before I tear my hair out.”

I almost told him he didn’t have to stay here on my account, but I had a feeling I was the last person he wanted to hear that from.

“Ye could always clean the bathroom like I’ve been suggestin’,” Snake muttered into his textbook.

Wolf spared a moment to flick Snake a dubious look. “Do I look like a maid?”

“Do I?” Snake shot back, giving him a long-suffering sigh. “I’ve go’ this exam coming up, and I can’t keep cleanin’ the whole bloody flat myself. So you can clean, or wallow in your own filth.”

I was somewhat impressed by how Snake managed to keep his voice even and quiet, and still make the ultimatum sound like a rather dire decision.

Wolf screwed his eyes tight in dissatisfaction, grumbling to himself. I flicked my eyes between them like something from a tennis match, and they widened despite myself when Wolf tossed the remote in my direction. I caught it with clumsy hands, watching in awe as he rose.

“I’ll do the bloody kitchen, then,” he muttered. “Eagle can do the bathroom.”

I blinked owlishly as Wolf startled bustling around the kitchen, cutting a glance at Snake, who smiled into his textbook in triumph.

“How’d you manage to leash him?” I asked, fully aware I was pushing the envelope.

“Time and the patience of a saint,” Snake mumbled without looking up, scribbling something into a notebook.

“I can hear you,” Wolf muttered.

“Less hearin’, more cleanin’,” Snake said.

I blinked again. I wasn’t sure how Snake was still alive at the moment, but Wolf just muttered something under his breath as he fished the ammonia out from one of their cupboards. I supposed he really _had_ grown up.

“I thought we had a rather good system, you know. I cook, you clean. Seemed proper enough.”

“No, I clean, ye sulk, I bully ye into cookin’.” I couldn’t imagine Snake bullying anyone into anything, but I continued to watch the easy exchange. “Pull yer own weight before I decide to let ye figure out how the laundry machines work.”

I almost laughed at that, hiding a snort in my hand. This was much better entertainment than my book or the muted tellie, anyhow. Snake seemed pretty comfortable around the others—I supposed he had to be, with how close they were—but he was a lot more talkative than he was around L-Unit, from what I’d seen.

“I don’t see you giving Fox and Eagle a hard time about it,” Wolf defended.

“Fox is a decently clean human being, and Eagle is a lost cause. You’re salvageable, somehow. God bless your poor mum.”

_That_ earned a tight scowl, but I could tell Wolf wasn’t really offended. Wolf seemed pretty close with Snake, too. I knew, from limited exposure, small things—Eagle was close with them, of course, but he spent most of his breaks with his girlfriend—from what I’d heard they were quite serious. Fox was…well, Fox. A little rough around the edges, but fairly easy-going, I supposed. I didn’t think Wolf and Snake would be so close—their personalities seemed more than at odds, but they seemed quite comfortable with each other.

“Cub?”

“Hm?” I said on reflex, glancing at Snake from where I was lounging on the pulled-out bed. “I’m sorry, I missed that.” I supposed I’d spaced out a little. I always got a bit more spacey when I was on edge.

“No, I was just asking if you had anything in particular you wanted for lunch,” Snake said, taking a sip of coffee. “No need to be sorry.”

I faltered. Well…that was nice to say. “Right. Um…I’m really fine with anything. Is it cooking or takeaway?”

“Wolf will cook,” Snake volunteered, ignoring Wolf’s protest. “He’s not as good as Lion, from what I’ve heard, but it’s decent.”

I blinked. Lion had a certain element of domesticity in his natural personality. Wolf was…the last person I’d expect to be a good cook. “Oh. Alright. Well…I’m fine with whatever.”

“That’s a dangerous game, Cub,” Wolf said from the kitchen. “I’ve been known to experiment.”

I blinked again.

It certainly wasn’t L-Unit’s flat, but there was an alarming amount of domesticity that I couldn’t really reconcile with the K-Unit from Brecon Beacons two years ago.

I didn’t have time to reply, as Fox got back then. He huffed through the door, hair and long-sleeved shirt soaked through with sweat, despite the dropping temperatures. “It’s cold as bollocks out there,” he complained, brushing frost from his hair on the entrance rug, wiping his slush-caked trainers on the mat. “My toes are falling off.”

“Take your shoes off,” Snake chided without looking up. “I just mopped.”

“Yes, Mum. Wolf, are you cooking? Make something with a lot of meat.”

“God, you’re all insufferable,” Wolf muttered, and I heard a distinct increase in the rather violent banging of pans in the kitchen. “Fox, get in here and help me when you’re done changing, or whatever. I’m not cooking for everyone without help.”

“Why me?”

“Because apparently you’re a decently clean human being with no other responsibilities in this damn flat, so you’re gonna bloody well do something.”

“I didn’t say it _quite_ like that,” Snake mumbled, laser-focused on some sort of diagram.

I couldn’t quite stifle the laugh at that. I was still on edge, but they were…well, a lot more normal than I’d expected them to be. I supposed even after so much time, I expected them to still be the strict, tight-lipped jerks they’d been in Wales, but I’d miscalculated. I was already familiar with Fox’s sometimes brusque nature, well-acquainted with Wolf’s abrupt, asinine personality, but I didn’t expect the dynamics between such different people to be so…well, easy.

Perhaps Lion was onto something—the Sergeant really was more of a matchmaker than a high-ranking government official.

“How’re you, Alex?” Fox asked from the bathroom. I heard him scrubbing his hair with a towel, I supposed trying to brush out all the frozen sweat. Damn. I hadn’t been on a run in a long time, not with my leg, and I missed the adrenaline, the head-clearing buzz of exhaustion. “You still comfortable?”

“Yeah, I’m alright,” I said, returning to my book, ignoring the tellie. I was still on edge, but the easy conversation had helped distract me somewhat. It was still painfully easy to glance around and feel the _wrongness_ of Tiger and Bear and Lion’s absence, still too easy to think of something and turn to share it with one of them before remembering that they were on their was to a dangerous, hostile environment in Budapest. But I supposed it had only been half a day—I’d be worried for quite a while. But at least they had the watch, and they were capable soldiers.

“Do you have any pills you need to take at lunch?” He asked, poking his head around the door from the bathroom to glance at me.

“No,” I said at the same time Snake said, without looking up, “Immune booster, antibiotic, optional painkiller.”

I turned incredulous eyes on Snake, who seemed completely unperturbed.

Bear may have a rival in his neurotic worry, after all.

Fox laughed, even as I scowled, realizing how difficult these next couple weeks would be under constant surveillance. “Don’t even try, kid. Nothing gets past Snake.”

“I thought you had the memory of a goldfish,” I muttered.

“I do, unless it comes to something of actual importance, like your health,” Snake said pointedly.

I looked away, embarrassed. Fox snorted.

“Right, well, Eagle’s bringing Evelyn over for lunch, so again, I’m not cooking for six people without help. Fox, move your bloomin’ arse a little faster, would you?” Wolf griped over the sounds of creaking cabinet doors.

I faltered, glancing quickly at the kitchen, but Wolf wasn’t looking at me. Neither was Snake, for that matter. The feeling was startlingly reminiscent of how nervous I’d been meeting Lion’s family for the first time, and even though that had been fine…well, L-Unit was a little more aware of how uncomfortable I was around people I didn’t know, also.

On top of the writhing mess of nerves from their absence, I felt nauseous at the thought of meeting someone else new, and barely refrained from twisting my face at the discomfort.

“If Evelyn and Eagle are coming, maybe you shouldn’t make so much meat,” Snake reminded. I’d heard Eagle mention he was a vegetarian, but I didn’t know if Evelyn was the same.

“What? No, I called the menu today,” Fox called from his bedroom. I assumed he was changing clothes. “They can eat the salad, I don’t care.”

“Maybe someone should ask our guest what he wants to eat?” Snake said pointedly.

It took me a full three seconds to realize he was talking about me, and I glanced at him, surprised again. I didn’t like how off-game I was—I really needed to get a handle on my nerves. It was K-Unit, who I didn’t trust but knew wouldn’t hurt me, and Eagle’s girlfriend. It was highly unlikely that she was an assassin or operative of any kind. “Oh, no, I’m…really fine with anything. Like I said.”

“Oh. I did ask, didn’t I? Sorry, I’m all over the place today,” Snake said distractedly.

“…it’s fine.”

“You sure you’re alright?” Fox asked, lowering his voice a bit as he sat beside me on the couch, cheeks still pink from the frigid outside. “You’re pale.”

I paused, glancing at the kitchen, and nodded slowly. “I just…uh…you know. New people, new place, I’m just…I think I’m overwhelmed,” I admitted, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt, adjusting my position. My leg was propped on the bed, which was beginning to get uncomfortable. I itched with the need to move around.

“And worried,” Fox observed, clinical eyes homing in on my restless hands and my squirming.

“And worried.”

“They’ll be fine, Alex. They were a good unit even before you got there. Besides, most missions go off without a hitch, and the Sergeant’s always careful with assignments.” He patted my shoulder. “Try to relax a little. If you keep working yourself up so much, it’s going to affect your health, and then we’ll have to explain to your guard dogs why you’re in worse shape than they left you in.”

I smirked. “Guard dogs?”

“ _Yes_ , guard dogs. I thought Lion was going to deck me the second I laid eyes on you,” he griped, eyes pinched in negative remembrance. “Bloody arse.”

“Don’t worry, he doesn’t like you either,” I commented, glancing idly at the kitchen. “You know, I thought if anything, Wolf would be the ones giving them problems.”

“I heard that,” he called.

“I think you were meant to,” Fox responded, looking a bit put out. “Well, we’ll figure it out eventually. I don’t have to like him to work with him.” He tousled my hair a little more aggressively than I was used to, and I swatted at his hand on instinct. I used to swat at L-Unit in the beginning, too, and the reminder was a little funny.

“If you’re done gossiping, I could use some help,” Wolf yelled again, sounding on the verge of exploding. “You’ve got ten seconds before I kick your arse to next Sunday.”

Fox scowled, but made his way into the kitchen, and I followed. I dutifully used my crutch, but Snake still gave me a look. “You alright?”

“It’s been almost three weeks,” I commented as I looked at the counters, where the cabinets had evidently thrown up. “I’m fine to walk around a little. I can’t sit still anymore.”

“Excellent, I have two slaves,” Wolf said. “Start chopping.”

My eyebrow twitched.

Yes, the differences between this flat and L-Unit’s were becoming more apparent by the second.

…

Upon my first impression, I determined that Eagle could live a thousand lives and never be completely deserving of Evelyn.

Evelyn (“Oh, sweetie, call me Evie, everyone does”) was five foot nothing with strawberry blonde hair, icy blue eyes, and a smattering of light freckles across her nose and high cheekbones. She was pretty, with small, fairy-like features, but she looked fairly muscled, from what I could tell.

She worked as an Emergency Medical Technician and nurse, alternating between the two depending on what was needed most whichever day. My heart skipped a beat when she said she worked at St. Dominic’s, but luckily, she was mostly posted in labor and delivery while on nurse duty. Besides that, she seemed really kind, but she also walked in and started ordering four gigantic SAS men around like children, so she seemed capable, too.

I’d been nervous, and I guess it had shown, because Fox dropped an arm around my shoulder as Snake got the door. I jumped, unprepared, and shot him a look.

“Evelyn’s great,” Fox said, patting my shoulder before letting go, finally sensing that I was a little uncomfortable. From my experience, he wasn’t really inclined to respecting people’s personal space. “Besides, I’ll protect you.”

I scowled.

However, I needn’t have worried. Evelyn (unlike Angelica, who’d hugged me straight away, not that I minded now) seemed to sense that I was a bit on edge, because she just smiled and introduced herself from a few feet away, accepting my terse nod and thin smile.

She really won me over when she glanced around the kitchen and said, “James, you’re never going to find a girlfriend if this is what it looks like when you cook. Lord, what did you do to that poor squash? Get out of the way.”

She proceeded to physically shoo a resigned Wolf to the sink for dish duty (I had a feeling this had happened several times before). Snake smirked at my surprised expression, whispering, “Evelyn’s a force to be reckoned with. First time she an’ Eagle met at church, she smacked him silly because he put a fake spider in her hair during the service. Screamed up a storm in front of the pastor, then slapped him right in front of the congregation.”

There was no way I couldn’t laugh at that. I didn’t miss the triumphant look in Snake’s eye as I laughed—I supposed he’d seen how on edge I’d been all day—but there was nothing I could do about it. That seemed like the kind of thing Eagle would do, and I had no doubt Evelyn gave him hell for it. Good for her.

“Matthew, are you sure you’re okay to be moving around so much?” Evelyn asked after a few minutes of my peeling potatoes, glancing pointedly at the crutch I was leaning on. “I know Kyle’s on top of everything when it comes to medical things, but you look like you’re having a little trouble.”

I didn’t miss how Wolf’s eyes cut quickly to me and away, pretending he hadn’t looked in the first place. He was still banished to the sink. Fox and Snake had moved to the living room to give us some space, and Eagle was pestering his girlfriend for samples.

Before I’d gotten here this morning for my stay, I’d spoken to Fox on the phone and informed him of my situation, the barest amount that I could. I’d told him that I was hiding, from MI6 and someone else I’d managed to piss off during my endeavors, and I’d been living under the pseudonym of Matthew Smith for the better part of a year. I said I knew that the rest of K-Unit probably knew me as Alex, or Cub, and that was fine, but I couldn’t be introduced to anyone else as anything but Matthew, or I wasn’t coming.

Fox had teased my petulant response, but promised that he’d inform the others. I’d bet Fox or Snake told them not to ask, because surprisingly, they hadn’t. I had a feeling that was part of the reason behind Wolf’s glance just now.

“I’m okay,” I assured her with a smile, more relaxed than before, but still guarded. “I’ve been sitting all day.”

“He’s a tough kiddo, Evie,” Eagle said with a grin, kissing the top of Evie’s head (he had to bend drastically low to do so) with a playful smile. “You don’t need to be so worked up. It’s your day off. Leave the medical analysis to the med student, hm?”

Snake and Evelyn rolled their eyes in such perfect sync I wondered if they’d rehearsed it.

The rest of the day went smoothly, as well. Lunch was a hectic affair—it had to be, with Eagle and Fox around—and Wolf was at his wit’s end when it was finally over. I was more than a little surprised his explosion hadn’t happened earlier, but when it finally did, it was seemingly catastrophic. He yelled at everyone in sight—including me—about the slightest things, but it seemed like I was the only one phased.

“He gets like this sometimes,” Eagle explained, patting my shoulder at my dumbfounded expression. “Don’t worry. He’s all bark and no bite. Aren’t you, Wolf?”

“Oh, I’ll show you my bite, you son of a—”

“Wolf, I will call Tia Adelita in a heartbeat, and don’t you dare think I won’t,” Snake threatened. I could practically see the vein in his forehead pulsing with each second. “God, you’re an arse. Why the hell do we stand you?”

“He’s a decent cook,” Fox provided from the recliner, watching the scene with blasé interest.

I blinked, staring at the fuming team leader, the ex-spy whose sharp tongue would get us all killed, the calm medic with the patience of a saint but the temper of a volcano, and the easy-going comedian with the unconcerned insults that were obviously aggravating the situation, especially designed to do so. I glanced at Evelyn, who was clearing the table and _humming_ in the middle of it.

I blinked again.

“Welcome to the flat, Cub,” Snake said dejectedly, running a tired hand through his hair.

I supposed, instead of worrying so much about L-Unit, I should worry about myself, too, because I didn’t know how I was going to possibly escape the next two weeks unscathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was both really hard and really fun to write! I’m excited to explore more of K-Unit and their characters, so I hope you liked this little teaser for them, and that I did them justice! Let me know what you think :D and of course Evie is literally the best and I love her even though I’ve literally barely created her character lol
> 
> As always, thank you so much for your love and support! Love you all!


	29. Chapter 29

“Wait, you’re _staying_ with K-Unit? Like at their _house_?” Tom’s incredulous voice shouted through the phone.

I winced, pulling the receiver away from my ear until he’d finished. “Yeah, Tom. At their flat. That’s what I said.”

“What the hell?” His displeasure was more than obvious.

I sighed, glancing at the kitchen, where Snake was still studying. Turned out the exam was in a couple days, so he was cramming like crazy. I turned down the volume just in case, but Snake seemed so zoned into his notes I doubted it mattered. “L-Unit had an emergency mission. No, I’m not allowed to tell you where or what for. But it was really last-minute, and K-Unit was…really the only viable option. They wouldn’t let me stay alone.”

“You could’ve come here,” Tom said, and I almost smirked at the sulk in his voice.

“They wouldn’t’ve had time to get me to Italy, Tom,” I say practically, sobering at my next thought. “Besides. Facial recognition at the airports would probably flag me for MI6.”

Tom was quiet for a few long seconds. “Damn. That sucks.”

“Yeah. Otherwise, I would’ve loved to come harass you for two weeks.”

“Well, come over soon! I’m bored without you. Ya know, as soon as you can, or whatever. How’re you going to work all that out?”

I leaned back on the couch, closing my eyes. “I dunno, mate. I really don’t. I was just going to…you know. Wait it out.” Wait to turn eighteen, or until MI6 magically lost interest in me, or both. I doubted Snake was listening to me, but I didn’t want to drop my biggest secret with him in the next room, just in case. “Then hopefully we can hang out more.”

Even as I said it, it sounded like a pipe dream. The concept of normalcy seemed like it had always been a dream. What I’d thought was normal was actually an elaborate cover for Ian’s job, so I wondered if anything I’d ever experienced had been truly _normal_.

Thankfully, Tom wasn’t here to see the way my shoulders dropped at the realization. He replied, “Yeah, for sure. I’m cashing in for lost time, you bastard. I’m going to make you play so much footie your feet will fall off.”

I smiled at the unfamiliar ceiling, closing my eyes. “Sure, Tom. Whatever you want.”

“You’re damn right, whatever I want,” he grumbled. “Oh, I’ve gotta go. Rhea’s beeping in. Talk to you later. Tell K-Unit they’re bastards.”

I smirked. “Yeah to the first one, no to the second.”

Tom huffed. “Patsy.”

I chuckled and hung up, letting the phone thunk onto the cushion beside me. I was going stir crazy in here, and it’d only been a day.

Snake was holed up studying like a crazy person, and Eagle, believe it or not, was ring shopping. He’d decided last night he was going to pop the question to Evie on Christmas, which was a pleasant bit of news after everything. They seemed really happy together, and I was glad Eagle was proposing. Fox had agreed to be the best man, too, which was awesome.

Wolf was grocery shopping, after a lot of irate cajoling from an obviously sleep-deprived Snake, and Fox was…well, I didn’t actually know where Fox was, but he wasn’t here. That left me to my own devices, and I was ready to tear my hair out.

Since Snake was so distracted, maybe I could get away with a walk. No harm in trying.

“Snake?” I said tentatively, levering myself up onto my crutch. I really could walk normally now, albeit I had a slight limp, but I figured the crutch would increase his chances of saying yes. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Uhhh, coffee’s in the pot,” he mumbled without looking up.

I blinked, slipping my phone into my pocket and stealing towards the door. I’d take that as an affirmative. “Uh…okay, thanks.”

I shrugged on Lion’s sweatshirt and a coat, pulling up the hood as I slipped out the door and down the stairs into the snow-bathed street. I took a deep breath, relishing the way it stung my nose and warmed in my lungs, and watched my breath cloud in front of me. I missed outside.

The temperature was dropping, and my leg and side (which was almost completely healed) throbbed at the frozen atmosphere, but I turned and began walking anyways, grateful for the healing burn. Snow-laden trees lined the streets, salt from the snow machines crunching under my shoes as I crossed the street, scanning the opposite rooftops out of habit. I passed a few people on the side street with the flat building, but traffic really picked up when I hit the main arteries, following the throng towards the main roads.

K-Unit lived conveniently close to L-Unit, in Wheatly just outside Oxford. A bit less crowded than Cookham, but the streets were still decently busy, especially when I made it to the main road.

I took a few minutes to secure my surroundings and make sure no one was following me, then I popped in my headphones and hit shuffle on my Ed Sheeran tracks. I enjoyed that fast-paced rhythms and witty rhymes.

I found a snow-dusted bench by a frozen fountain with a trumpeting angel on top, and thought it looked like the perfect spot to sit and people-watch for a while. Jack and I used to people watch. Not so much when I got older, but when I was younger, we did it all the time. I faintly wondered why we’d stopped doing that. A dark thought weaseled in and voiced that I would never be able to do it again.

I cast it away in favor of brighter things, just for today, and resolved myself not to worry for the next bit. Not about L-Unit, or K-Unit, or my secrets, or myself. That was something I loved about people-watching—it gave you ample time to worry about other people for no reason at all.

Jack liked it because she liked to guess what people were thinking. She liked to pretend to construct their lives from what they wore, or how they acted, or what we overheard. We’d often have competitions to see who could come up with the most outlandish explanation.

My…job…required a decent bit of observation, which I hadn’t put into recreational practice yet, so I was somewhat excited to see what I could come up with.

I chose my first target. It was a busy-looking man on the other side of the fountain, weaving through the throngs of early holiday shoppers as he spoke frantically on a Bluetooth earpiece, simultaneously looking at his smartphone. He bumped into more than one person, and looked none to apologetic about it.

I smiled to myself, pulling my hood tighter over my ears. Jack would’ve had fun with that one. She’d label him a CEO, the head of a successful corporation, on his way to deal with a crisis. He’d had a bad day already and was feeling quite put out. She’d guess that his wife would be angry, because he’d probably be late for supper.

I blinked away the afterimage of red hair and fire, and thought she’d tease me for my guess. I figured he was more low-level, perhaps a team lead, in a moderately successful company that was trying to make their mark this holiday season. Based on the tarnished watch, the scuffed shoes, he wasn’t making a lot of money. Based on the wrinkles around his eyes, the absent wedding band, he was a workaholic, and lived alone. Probably divorced. I wondered if he was lonely.

Jack’s phantom giggle was almost real enough that I looked to my left to see the smile on her face. I was met with the empty half of the bench.

I sighed, relishing the cold burn, and leaned my head back, letting my eyes close as I felt the soft sting of snowflakes hitting my face. I’d never mourned her. Not really. It had been the desperate panic of trying to convince Julius Grief to spare her, and then it had been the overwhelming frenzy of disbelieving agony. Then, of course, there was trying to survive Gunter and Razim, and then the cold, furious desire for revenge.

And then, there was MI6 letting me go—or so I thought—and then the Pleasures and the desperation for transient normalcy, and then the running, and then the SAS, and…L-Unit. And now.

I had never…grieved. And this would be my first Christmas without her, since she joined our little family, and…I didn’t know what to do about it. How to feel.

She loved Christmas shopping. _Loved_ it. Black Friday saw her dragging me out of bed at four in the bloody morning to go stand in line outside all the biggest stores, freezing and tired and cranky. I wished I’d known to cherish those moments. Black Friday had already gone, as had Cyber Monday—I’d spent it half-dead on L-Unit’s couch, in fact—but Christmas for Jack was a two-month affair.

Now it seemed like without her, there was no point, and…and that sucked. That really sucked, because I loved her Christmases. I was always so angry when Ian was away on holidays, but Jack always found a way to make it better.

I brushed at my eyes and attributed the stinging sensation to the biting cold.

“You trying to freeze to death?” A familiar voice said behind me. I turned quickly, startled, but Fox slumped into the empty side of the bench before I even realized it was him, grimacing as the snow bit through his pants. “Bollocks, it’s _freezing_ , Alex. What’re you doing out here?”

“How’d you find me?” I asked, surprised to see him here.

“What, was I not supposed to? I tracked your phone,” he explained. “I tried calling, but it went to voicemail.” Oh. I vaguely remembered turning my notifications off when I left. Oops. “Snake called in a fit and said he’d lost you. Why didn’t you tell him you were going out?”

“I did,” I defended. “He told me where the coffee was.”

“Ah. Yeah. He’s in a different universe when he’s studying,” Fox said in understanding. “Well, still, leave a note or something. You’re kind of under our care for the time being.”

“I can take—”

“Yeah, yeah, you can take care of yourself,” he said, waving a gloved hand. “Sixteen and self-sufficient.” His tone was obviously sarcastic, but there was no malice in his tone. Judgment, but no malice.

I pursed my lips as irrational fear spiked through me, even though I knew no one was in hearing distance. Especially no one who would be able to do anything about it, but still. Hearing it said out loud was still enough to rile the dormant paranoia in my bones.

“People are trying to kill you, Alex,” he said after a short silence, side-eyeing me. “And the ones who aren’t are trying to find you. I hardly think a little worry on our part isn’t justified.”

I glanced at him, but there wasn’t much I could say. It wasn’t like he was wrong.

“How’ve you been?” I said instead, trying to change course. “Since Major Yu, and everything.”

Fox’s eyes narrowed at my obvious unwillingness to discuss it, but he answered anyways, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Good, for the most part. I transferred back to the SAS a few weeks after the end of our mission and recuperated there.” I glanced at his arm, remembering how he’d been shot, and he caught my glance. “It wasn’t a bad hit; a couple months of PT and rest and I was ready to go. We’ve gone on a few missions and one or two stealth ops, but nothing overly extravagant. My mum got remarried and my sister got engaged, so I’m officially the only single member of the family.”

I smiled at that, looking back to the thick crowds cutting around. I watched a musician begin setting up on the other side of the fountain and wondered how they could manage to play a guitar in this weather. I could barely feel my fingers. “Sounds nice.”

“I don’t really mind. I’m still in my prime.”

I snorted.

“Oi, shut it, brat.”

I laughed under my breath, enjoying the normal conversation. I liked Fox, and trusted him with more than most, besides L-Unit, but I enjoyed getting to know more about Ben Daniels, too.

“What about you?” He asked, his voice light, casual. “After Major Yu?”

I took a deep breath, letting the cold center me. “I did a couple more missions. Two. One in India, and one in Egypt.” I blinked snow from my eyes, familiar wisps of fire momentarily stealing my sight, and had to stop for a minute before I could continue. “Egypt was bad. Bad enough that Blunt was fired and they let me go. Or so I thought, anyways. A friend in America and her family adopted me, and then—”

I blinked, shivering at the memory, watching Ben carefully out of the corner of my eye. He was following my gaze, watching the passerbys, but I knew we were each studying the other in our peripheries. “My friend died. Sniped. And I ran, and hid, because I knew they’d be after me again. MI6 and…the ones who killed her. Mostly in America. A friend helped me forge papers for my GCSEs and birth certificate and stuff, and I joined the SAS under Matthew Smith. I met L-unit and…well, they didn’t let me keep my secrets for long,” I said, smiling wryly. “But I trust them. Probably more than I’ve trusted anyone since starting with MI6. They’re…really good people.”

I shrugged, glancing at him. “And now I’m here.”

He took a deep breath, eyes mostly expressionless. “Damn, kid. I’m sorry about your friend.”

I shrugged. There wasn’t much I could say, anyways.

There was a moment of silence. “What happened in Egypt?”

“No.” It was short, clipped, and final.

Fox glanced at me, surprise in his eyes, but didn’t push it. “…okay.” Instead, he shifted, shivering. “It’s freezing, mate. Can we at least talk somewhere warm?”

I shrugged, still reeling from his question. “Sure.”

“Um…I need to do some Christmas shopping, actually,” he said thoughtfully. “I’m a rubbish gift-giver, so maybe you can help me.”

I cast a glance his way. “I’m not sure I’m the most qualified person for this job.”

“Nonsense. Two heads are better than one.”

That was how I found myself on cart duty in the department store, looking at appliances, most of which I didn’t even have names for.

“Our cookware is surviving on a wing and a prayer right now,” Fox said slowly, scanning the shelves. “Wolf’s been complaining about it. You think he’d like a blender?”

“Does he like blended food?”

“…not that I know of.”

I sent him a dubious glance. “Then why the hell would he want a blender?”

“See? Two minds are better than one, like I said.”

I sighed, long-suffering and weary, and we continued down the aisles.

“Are you getting anything for your unit mates?” He asked as he crouched, scanning price tags, grimacing. “Are you there yet, or anything?”

“Yeah, I’m getting them all things,” I said distractedly, looking around, scanning for threats out of habit. The store was crowded, especially for a weekday. “I haven’t done any shopping yet, though.”

“D’you have any ideas? Maybe you’ll spark something I can get for one of the other guys. I’m clueless on Snake, and Eagle’s going to be tough.”

I thought, pondering the question. I’d never been a great gift-giver. I really only got gifts for Tom and Ian and Jack, anyways, and Tom was easy to please. Ian liked practical things, so tools and gadgets were often enough, and Jack…well, she usually made a gift list, so I picked a few things off of that. Jack always helped me shop for everyone else.

“Mm…I was thinking some stuff for the youth center for Bear,” I said thoughtfully, inspecting a miniature pan, wondering why the hell anyone would spend ten pounds on it. “He works with kids a lot, and he’s always complaining that they don’t have the funding for some things they’d like to get, so I was thinking some athletics and music stuff, if I budget.”

“Well, that’s nice, but it does nothing for me,” Fox commented, putting a knife set in the cart.

I raised an eyebrow as he looked at me. I wondered if he was asking for approval, or something. “You want to _arm_ Wolf anymore that he already is?”

Fox rolled his eyes. “Dramatic. He’s not nearly as homicidal as you seem to remember him being.”

I didn’t comment. I was sure my doubtful expression said enough.

“Um…for Tiger…” I pondered. Tiger wasn’t the kind of guy who’d like something sappy or sentimental, and he didn’t have a lot of hobbies besides reading. Maybe I’d go to a bookstore and look around. “Probably something to do with reading. Or coffee.”

“Hm. Yeah, let’s hit a bookstore next. Snake likes reading. And for his royal highness the pain in my arse?”

I smirked. “I bet you don’t like him because he outranks you.”

“Please. I like Wolf, don’t I?”

I hummed in agreement, still smiling. “You’re going to have to get over this, you know. You can’t exactly work together if you’re bickering the whole time.” I paused. “Well, Lion would probably have the decency to ignore you.”

“Ouch, mate,” Fox said with a look. “I can be civil.”

I laughed as we switched aisles, descending into the crockpots and pressure cookers. Fox seemed intrigued by those, but I was distracted. I had no idea what to get Lion. Having been raised by Ian Rider, who thought that sentimentality was useless, and by Jack Starbright, who was the most sentimental person I’d ever met, I had mixed feelings on the concept. On the one hand, sentimentality was something I kind of enjoyed, at least from the outside. I liked getting things for people that were meaningful, and thoughtful. However, that often led to vulnerability, and while it was becoming easier to handle, it didn’t mean I was completely comfortable with it or wanted to invite it in.

Still, while Bear and Tiger were really important to me, I felt like I’d grown closest to Lion. Tiger was awesome, but sometimes he was a little short. And Bear was awesome, but sometimes he was a little too much. Lion was always steady and present, and he always knew what to say, and…he’d seen me at my lowest. At my _lowest_. Crying because I’d failed to commit suicide. That was rock bottom, and he was still here.

So…yeah. I didn’t know if I could get him anything that would convey how much he’d done for me, just by being there, but…well, I supposed I could think for a little while.

“I dunno what to get for Lion yet,” I said truthfully, glancing distractedly at a child and his father as they passed us. “He’s religious, so maybe something to do what that? I don’t know what that would be, though. He likes piano.”

“Well, you have a few weeks,” Fox said, nodding almost to himself as he set a pressure cooker in the cart. I adjusted myself on my crutch and pushed the cart forward, which was an interesting setup. “We can go out again, if you think of something before L-Unit is back. Are you shopping for anyone else?”

“Tom.”

“Oh, him. He’s frightening.”

I laughed out loud at that, on the verge of cackling at the pure honesty in Fox’s voice. “He’d probably love hearing that.” In fact, the next time we stopped so Fox could browse, I texted Tom to tell him. He replied with a multitude of positive emojis and a message that said: _I’ve done my job_. I laughed to myself as Fox led me to checkout.

“I’m starving,” he commented as he carried the bulging paper bags. “Want to grab something?”

I shrugged. “Sure. I haven’t been around Oxford in a long time. What’s good?”

“Mm, Wolf’s partial to the Columbian place a few blocks away. Says it’s authentic. Are you okay to walk that far?”

I nodded, and followed him down the road. I felt his eyes on me as I paused at the crosswalk, scanning the rooftops, before continuing on, but neither of us commented on it. If he was at MI6 when I’d been shot, I figured he must know about it—a fifteen-year-old getting sniped in front of their headquarters must’ve been a highlight in the gossip mill. I wondered if spies even _had_ gossip mills. I’m sure those were filled with stories that would send reality stars into cardiac arrest.

The Columbian place was a little hole in the wall at the end of one of the main veins of Wheatley, nestled between a TK Maxx and what I was fairly sure was a sweatshop. Well, the atmosphere was unique, if nothing.

We were seated fairly quickly, but then Fox’s endless questions were somewhat unavoidable, which was infuriating.

“So when you were in America, after you friend died…what did you do?” He asked, shadowed concern in his eyes. Well, that was how I knew he was really worried. He usually kept emotions close to his chest—an occupational byproduct.

I shrugged, flipping through the menu. “What I could. I just bounced around, trying to stay under the radar. I picked up some hair dye. I’ve always looked a little older than I am, so it wasn’t hard to get by in homeless shelters.”

“Homeless shelters,” he repeated incredulously, disbelief—more than anything, a desire to believe that I was lying—in his eyes.

“Yes,” I confirmed, glancing at him. “I didn’t have a lot of options. I used some halfway houses sometimes, but it was mostly between hitchhiking to the East Coast so I could catch a plane to England once my papers were done. It whatever was around. I did what I had to.”

Fox, for all his training, couldn’t quite keep the pity from his eyes. “Someone really did a number on you, didn’t they?” I looked at him, unsure of what he wanted me to say, but he just shook his head and looked at his menu. “I don’t know how the hell we’re going to fix it, but we’re going to, eventually. Trust me, I’m not letting them lay a finger on you.”

I smiled a little into my menu. “That’s what Lion said.”

He blinked, then scowled. “Well, I guess even he has some bright ideas, sometimes.”

Despite the tension in his shoulders the rest of the day, the was he didn’t quite let me out of his sight until we were back safely at their flat, the obvious worry, I was glad that he wanted to protect me, too. I knew they thought they could, and I knew in my heart that they couldn’t, but it was still nice that they wanted to.

It…well…in a way, I felt validated by that. I felt like it was okay that I continued to stay. I had people who cared enough to face entire organizations for me. For now, that was more than enough.

…

The next day was my next physical therapy and therapy appointments, and Eagle was my chauffer.

“Wolf hates that bloody place,” Eagle said as explanation as we trudged down the street to the garage where they kept the car. “Refuses to go unless he absolutely has to. Snake’s studying, and Fox…well, he disappears a lot when we’re on leave. You get used to it. So, you’re stuck with me today.”

It wasn’t that I didn’t like Eagle. I did. He was a bit more high-strung than Bear, which was what I was used to, but I supposed it wouldn’t be too bad. I just wasn’t in the mood to talk much.

Fortunately, he did enough talking for the both of us on the way. It was a bit of a drive, especially with the London traffic, but he managed brilliantly all by himself. I picked up that his real name was Mason, he had two older sisters, a younger brother, and three nieces, all of whom he loved and would do anything for, he and Evie had been together for four years and he was nervous as hell about proposing, his parents were well-adjusted folks who lived in Birmingham, his little brother was at uni to study literature (which he couldn’t fathom because he hated reading), he wanted to try going vegan at some point but didn’t know if he could give up cheese, and he’d always wanted a dog for K-Unit, but they were away most of the time and Snake hated dogs.

By the time we finally arrived in London, I knew pretty much all I could want to know about Eagle, and all I’d had to do was nod along and look vaguely interested, which was nice. I appreciated that he hadn’t tried to ask any questions, though I was sure he had several.

“Okay, well, I’m going to do some shopping,” he said as I stood under the awning, protected from the snow, looking through the passenger window as he spoke. “Call if you need me, okay? I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

“That should be fine,” I said. “Thanks for driving me.” I felt bad that he had to waste his whole day. I didn’t imagine it was doing me any favors.

“Don’t worry about it, I like driving,” he said with a grin. “Go on. You’ll be late.”

“Thanks again,” I said as I turned, entering the familiar building.

I wasn’t looking forward to PT—Lissa was probably going to kill me when she saw my new injuries—but I’d rather suffer through fifty PT sessions to avoid another therapy session with Dr. Hash. I was still very on edge with L-Unit gone, God knows where doing God knows what without me, and I didn’t want him to pick at my brain while I was so worried and paranoid and overwhelmed.

I’d probably end up deflecting like always. Still, Dr. Hash didn’t seem like an idiot. I was sure he’d know what was going on. The question was whether or not he was going to call me out on it.

I checked in with the receptionist, but I didn’t have to wait long. Lissa came to get me, and when we got back to the clinic with the machines and everything, she turned, scanning my form with clinically angry eyes. I had the urge to shrink.

“So,” she said after a long silence, crossing her arms. “Look’s like your arm’s all healed.” She then sent a significant look to my thigh, my side, and the lingering bruises that stubbornly refused to fully fade.

“Um…yeah?” I said uncertainly, lifting it to demonstrate. “It, uh…healed a little faster than it was supposed to, I guess.”

She raised an eyebrow. It wa downhill from there.

I was so drenched in sweat at the end of our hour session that Lissa let me shower off in the staff room. She’d been merciless. I couldn’t imagine how much worse off I would’ve been if Snake and Bear hadn’t helped me stretch the wounds every day. Despite that, Lissa said I was healing slowly, but well. That would be a piece of good news for when L-Unit was back; I knew they’d been worried.

I was dreading the next bit, but I knew it was going to happen eventually, so I sucked it up and fortified my shaky walls and went next door. Dr. Hash greeted me with a smile, invited me to sit, and I did, leaning my crutch against the wall. His office was cozy, at least.

“How are you, Matthew?” He asked, crossing his legs and leaning back in his chair. He didn’t have a notepad today, which made me feel a little better. Maybe he noticed it made me uncomfortable.

“Fine,” I opted, glancing around his office. “Tired. I just had another PT session.”

“Yikes,” he said sympathetically. “Looks like you have some recent injuries. Were those the reason for your PT?”

“Yes.”

“I see. Do you want to talk about how you got them?”

“I was mugged,” I said simply, glancing at his family photo on the desk. “A couple of them jumped me. I didn’t comply, so they shot me.”

Dr. Hash tilted his head in consternation, looking the slightest bit concerned. “You say that very casually.”

I glanced at him, feeling my hackles rise. I didn’t want to be here. I hated that every word I said, every inflection of my voice, was being combed through and scrutinized with the utmost attention. I hated being put under a microscope where I had no control. “Well, like I told you last session. It’s over, and I survived, and I’d like to move on.”

I didn’t even want to think about his reaction should I tell him about the bridge. That was off-limits territory.

“Alright,” he said, shifting his position. “You don’t like me very much, do you, Matthew?”

I blinked and looked at him, surprised by the question. He didn’t seem upset, though, just curious. He adjusted his spectacles and waited, but he didn’t say anything, so I bit the bullet and corrected, “I don’t like therapy.”

“Most people don’t,” he admitted with a slight smile. “I don’t like it. Therapists have to have sessions with others, you know, as a means to discuss what our patients tell us and how it’s affecting us. I’ve heard of horrible things that happen to my clients, and it’s very difficult not to get emotionally invested. I want to help them. It’s why I became a clinical psychologist.”

I listened, surprised by the knowledge and his willingness to share. “How do you share all that? Isn’t it kind of painful, rehashing it all?”

“Of course it is,” he confirmed, cleaning his round glasses on his button down. “But I’d rather do that and have the means to help my patients than not.” He paused, looking back at me. The eye contact made me uncomfortable, and I lost the battle, looking at the painting on his wall. “Why don’t you like therapy, Matthew?”

I shrugged, unwilling to say anything of value just yet. “You just said nobody likes it.”

“Yes, but it’s been a while since I’ve had someone so obviously adverse to it as you are,” he commented. I scowled. “Once we figure out what you don’t like about it, or what you do like about it, we can move forward. Does that make sense?”

I thought about telling him that I hadn’t the slightest desire to move forward in the first place, but I figured that wouldn’t help my case. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, smiling. “Would you like to start over? I have some tests that we can use to get a grasp on how you’re doing, if you’d prefer that. Some patients don’t like to outright say how they’re doing, or discuss it right off the bat, but this gives me an idea of how you are. Would you like to try it?”

I was a little confused by his explanation, but it sounded better than being asked questions I didn’t want to answer. “Sure.”

“That’s great,” he said genuinely. Okay. Maybe I’d misjudged him. He was actually kind of nice. “First is a word association test. Are you familiar with those?”

“Kind of.”

“I have a list of words, and you’ll say the first word that comes to mind when you think of that word, no matter what it is,” Dr. Hash explained, reaching over to dim the lights. I tensed for a second, glancing around. I didn’t like that there was no window, or that I couldn’t easily reach the door, but I wasn’t going to say anything.

“Close your eyes for me,” he said quietly.

I obeyed, but I felt the hairs on my neck stand up as soon as my sight was gone, and I could feel anxiety teetering on the edge of my careful walls, but I fisted my hand in my pocket and breathed.

“Don’t feel like you have to censor your answers,” he said slowly. His tone was softer than before, and reluctantly, I felt myself relaxing the slightest bit. Tension slipped from my shoulders in small increments, until I was leaning back, feeling my mental fortitudes weaken. I was just _exhausted_ , and his soft voice and the dark weren’t helping that. “Just say whatever comes to mind. Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. First word: ice.”

“Cold,” I said easily.

“Sleep.”

“Uh, tired.” I hesitated on that one, feeling sluggish.

“Woman.”

“Man.” Easy. Okay.

“Life.”

“Death.” Yikes. Well, I hope he didn’t read too much into that one.

We continued in a steady pattern, and I was surprised to find myself falling into an easy routine, trying to stay relaxed. I didn’t think I said anything too incriminating, so it was easy to stop censoring my answers. Dr. Hash’s voice was steady and even, and I could feel my defenses slipping a bit. I wonder if that what he wanted. I immediately chastised myself for being lulled into a sense of security, but I was tired, and I doubted he wanted to hurt me. I opted to continue with the exercise and…see what happened.

“House.”

Hm. The first word was home, but that was a word I didn’t want to touch yet. I was getting better with it, but I still couldn’t believe it. “Building.”

Dr. Hash didn’t seem to mind my hesitation, though. “Air.”

“Flying.”

“Water.”

“Bridge.” I flinched, furrowing my eyes that slightest bit, but Dr. Hash didn’t skip a beat.

“Fire.”

Something tickled the edge of my consciousness, and I tensed despite myself, and my lowered walls crumbled. All of a sudden I was looking at the screen, at the Jeep, at Julius Grief, at then I heard a distant echo of my screams, and of my terror and desperation, and then there was a fireball that plumed into the sky, and if I looked closely enough at my memory I could catch the slightest wisp of red hair—

“No.” I opened my eyes, felt my breathing hitch, and fisted my hand in the folded blanket draped over the arm of the couch beside me, staring at the carpeted floor and trying to get myself back under control. “No. No.”

Dr. Hash was quick to change course, turning the lights up to full brightness, so quickly I had to squint. “It’s alright, Matthew. It’s alright. It’s December 15th, and the time is 13:26. You’re in London, at the base for veterans and active military affairs. Your code name is Jaguar, and your real name is Matthew Smith. You’re nineteen years old.”

The first part helped, but the lies sucked me back into the present with the force of space’s vacuum, because I couldn’t blow my cover here. I couldn’t. The fire, the fear, Jack—that was Alex’s trauma, and in this building I couldn’t be Alex. I could only be Matthew, and Matthew wasn’t broken like Alex. Matthew could handle this.

“I’m fine,” I said slowly, my breath tearing me open as I inhaled. “I’m fine.”

Dr. Hash looked less than convinced, but he leaned back and gave me a few minutes to get my breathing under control, anyways. I pushed dark hair back from my forehead and took a deep, shaky breath, then exhaled. “I’m fine. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he said evenly. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I don’t like fire.”

“Okay. Is it a fear, or did something happen that made fire a trigger for you?”

“I just don’t like it.”

“That was a bit of a strong reaction for just not liking something, Matthew,” Dr. Hash reasoned. I scowled to the carpet. “I don’t like onions, but I don’t have an anxiety attack when my wife cooks a dish with them.”

“It wasn’t an anxiety attack,” I defended, even though I knew it very clearly was.

“Okay. Then what was it?”

 _Dammit_. I wanted him to get angry, because I was angry, and I wanted to yell and storm out, but I couldn’t, because he was so damn _calm_. “It was…it just wasn’t an anxiety attack.”

“Your form says you’ve been previously diagnosed with anxiety. Does that diagnosis make you uncomfortable?”

“You said we were going to figure out what I liked about therapy,” I deflected. “I don’t like this part.”

Dr. Hash gave me a searching look for a long moment, and I forced myself to hold his gaze. Finally, he broke eye contact, and I felt like I could breathe again. “I can’t help you if you don’t let me, Matthew.”

“I don’t need help.”

“In my professional and personal opinion, I completely disagree.”

Well, that was brusque. He may as well have said I was screwed six ways to Sunday. “Well, I don’t. Bad things happen to everybody, and most people don’t go to therapy to deal with it.”

“From the little time I’ve spent with you, I can plainly see that you’re not ‘most people,’” he said quietly, his eyes filled with something like pain. Maybe empathy.

“Maybe not,” I agreed, grabbing my crutch, ignoring his look of surprise. I didn’t want to spend another damn minute in this room. “But I’m fine, and I don’t need your help. I don’t need anybody’s help.”

“The fact that you’re so adamant about that shows me that you need it more than most,” he said calmly, “and that’s not something to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not ashamed,” I bit out, grabbing my coat. “I don’t like therapy, and I’ve done my mandatory session with you. Unless you’re going to keep me from the field for any reason, I don’t want this to continue.”

Dr. Hash sat quietly as I gathered my stuff. He didn’t try to stop me. I wrestled with the handle, trying to get my shaking hand to cooperate as I leaned on my crutch, my leg still aching from the PT session, and he got up and opened the door for me.

“If you change your mind, this is my personal number,” he said, handing me a business card. His voice was still even. “I’m sorry that I upset you.”

I didn’t respond, taking the card from his hands and leaving without another word. When I got to the lobby, I tossed it in the rubbish bin and continued on. I didn’t call Eagle. Instead, I walked out into the snow, and I kept walking, and walking, and I wanted to run, but I knew it was futile.

I could run to the ends of the earth, but I could never outrun my memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well I meant to end it happier, but…ya know. This happened. Next chapter will be happier! I hope you liked it anyway!
> 
> I love Dr. Hash. He’s a stand-up guy. Poor Alex just doesn’t know how to accept help right now, especially from people who aren’t L-Unit. I hope you liked him! If you didn’t, I totally understand why, though XD
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	30. Chapter 30

**Warning: Bad words in Spanish. (?) And two in English.**

I wandered the familiar streets of London for a while before I sank onto a bench, exhausted and scared and upset. I was too tired to worry about being recognized.

It was a hotheaded move to walk out on my therapist, and I knew I’d probably pay for it later. I wouldn’t clear me if I’d done something like that. Maybe I could convince the Sergeant to let me back on active duty anyways, once I was physically healed, or I’d bite the bullet and apologize, BS my way through another session, and convince Dr. Hash that I was, in fact, a level-headed human being.

I sighed, messing with my phone. I wanted to ring Lion, or Tiger, or Bear, and talk. I wanted to tell them that I kind of wanted them to come back, because I missed them, and I felt safe with them. I wanted Lion to recognize that I’d had a shitty session and take me to get ice cream like I was six years old, even though it would piss me off, and he’d just smirk and drag me along. I wanted Bear to nag me about my medications and my stretches, even though I’d roll my eyes in exasperation. I wanted Tiger to sit in comfortable silence with me and read like he did on my bad days.

But they were working. And I couldn’t be with them, and they couldn’t come back.

From memory, from years of dialing the number and knowing it by heart, I dialed Jack’s number.

It went straight to her voicemail, and the sound of her voice broke me. I sat there on the bench amidst the writhing crowds around me, in the icy cold, and fractured apart. The world spun on without me as I shattered, a tragedy inside a fast-paced world with no time or desire to stop and accommodate me. I was an insignificant blip in the universe, and time was unemotional in its campaign forward.

_Hey, you’ve reached Jack! Leave a message after the beep, and I’ll get back to you._

So unemotional. So…impersonal. The tone sounded, and I couldn’t form words for a moment.

“Hi, Jack,” I managed after several seconds of staticky silence, as if I expected to hear her voice again. “I…um. I just…I miss…I miss you.”

I took a shaky breath, letting the cold center me, and continued. “I, um…I sent flowers. To your funeral. Sabina helped me pick them out. I don’t know if…if they ever got there. But…I sent them.”

More staticky silence.

“I just, uh…I—”

The dial tone beeped, signaling the end of the conversation. If one could call it that.

I let my hand fall bonelessly and let my phone hit my lap. I wondered what my unit was up to. If they were safe, or fighting. If the watch would end up being helpful. I wondered how I was going to survive two weeks without them if I couldn’t even go three days without falling apart.

Because I was. I was falling apart like the crackling ice at my feet.

“I’m not okay,” I whispered to no one in particular, listening as the words were stolen by the icy wind.

My phone rang.

For a horrible, gut-wrenching, shattering second, I thought Jack was returning my phone call.

I looked. It was Eagle. I ignored it.

He rang again five minutes later, and I ignored it again.

Ten minutes later, Fox called. I ignored that, too.

He called again. I turned my notifications off.

There was a coffee shop across the street. I stood, slipping on the ice for a second before I got my balance, and hobbled exhaustedly to the crosswalk, my eyes glued to the opposing rooftops as the sign blinked green for pedestrians. Nameless, faceless individuals moved around me, but I waited to be sure, and then I let myself cross.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I entered the cozy little shop, hit by a blast of warm air. It was a nice little place. Earth-tones and lacquered, rich wood decorated the inside, sleek black counters wrapping around the bar and kitchen. The rest of the area was open space devoted to tables and armchairs. A stone fireplace with fake flames lit up the far side of the shop, and only two of the several tables were taken. One was occupied by a woman typing furiously on a laptop, the other was occupied by a young couple giggling over steaming coffee mugs. Soft jazz played from speakers in the ceiling.

“Hello,” a barista said from behind the bar as I shook snowflakes from my dark hair. She was older, probably in her forties, with greying blond hair and laugh lines around her eyes. “Can I get you something?”

I patted my pockets, but I didn’t have any money on me. “Can I just warm up?”

“Of course,” she said. “Take whatever’s open.”

I took a leather armchair by the frost-bitten window, far from the other patrons or the bar, sinking into it and relishing the warmth around me. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. I was so tired.

A few minutes later, I made myself open my eyes, afraid I’d doze off if I let myself rest too long, and looked out the window. I wondered what kind of baggage the people who passed the window carried. I wondered if it was better or worse than mine. I wondered if it mattered.

A clink on the table in front of me startled me, and I turned quickly to see a mug of black coffee and some sugar packets. “On the house, love,” the barista from before said with a smile. “You look like you could use it.”

My first instinct was to refuse, because she might be trying to drug me. I hated that her act of kindness was tainted by that thought.

“Thank you,” I said with a plastic smile. “I appreciate it.”

I sipped on it, letting it warm my insides, and dug out my phone again. I had a multitude of calls, mostly from Eagle and Fox, and a rather threatening text message from Wolf. Snake sent a message asking if I was okay. Fox sent a message saying that he was going to track my phone again.

I rang Tom.

It rang four times before he picked up. “Hullo?”

“Hi.”

“Hey, mate. You alright?”

I swallowed, and breathed. “Um…no. Not…not really.”

The shift in his tone was immediate. “What’s wrong?”

I breathed again, shakier, and I could feel myself warring with the swirling emotions in my stomach. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Tom.”

“Do what, mate? What happened?”

“ _This_ ,” I said quietly. “I just—I don’t—Jack’s dead, Tom. She’s dead. They blew her up. And Sabina died. And it was—my fault. And you got—got _shot_. And—and you know what else? Bear, Fox, and Wolf all got shot protecting me, too. And everybody was lucky it wasn’t fatal, but what if next time it is? Who’s next, Tom? Who am I going to lose next? Or will they find me before that? I don’t—I don’t—”

“Al,” Tom said, his voice calm, but trembling the slightest bit. “Al, this is a really dark train of thought, mate. None of that was your fault.”

“Yes, it was.”

“No it wasn’t! It was bloody MI6’s fault for shoving you into it all. You didn’t choose to get involved.”

“I did, though. They gave me a choice and I chose to keep Jack, and she got killed. And then I chose to keep Sabina, because I was naïve and stupid and thought they could protect me. And—and it’s all my fault, Tom.”

“Alex,” Tom said quietly, sounding pained. Wrecked. “Alex, listen. You were fourteen years old, mate. We’re still just kids. Of _course,_ you chose to keep Jack. That’s what any fourteen-year-old would do after their last living family died. If my parents died, and Jerry was all I had left, I would’ve made the same decision. I looked up the orphanage they were going to send you to, and it was awful, mate. Accusations of physical and emotional and…and other abuse, every other day, but no one could prove enough to shut it down. I never, ever want you to go somewhere like that.”

“But if I had, she’d be alive.”

Tom was silent for a long moment. I closed my eyes, feeling uncomfortably hot as caged adrenaline buzzed in my fingertips.

“I am literally researching inspirational quotes about hindsight right now,” he muttered.

The comment was so unexpected that I actually laughed, wet and painful and not at all happy, but amused all the same.

“Oh, here’s one. ‘Forgive yourself for not having the foresight to know what now seems so obvious in hindsight.’ From Judy Belmont. Judy sounds like a smart lady. You’re not psychic, are you? Is that why you always won when we put bets on football teams for the playoffs? Oh, you sneak, I knew there was something off about it.”

I couldn’t help the smile that curled my lips as Tom prattled on.

“No, seriously. If you’ve been holding out on me, I’m going to be _pissed_. We could’ve been millionaires by now with the stock market decisions you’ve been keeping secret. And I’m going to need all the money you won in our bets back, too, prat. OH! And _test answers_! Oh, you bloody bastard, if that’s how you got all your good marks—”

“Tom, Tom,” I finally cut in, unable to stop the quiet, reluctant laugh. “I’m not psychic. Stop.”

A second of silence. “Oh. See, with how you were going on, I really thought you were. Because, you know, it’s one thing to make decisions based on the impossible circumstances you have then, and a completely different thing to make decisions knowing the future. But you didn’t know the future, did you?”

Quietly, reluctantly, I breathed. “No.”

“No. Nope, you didn’t, did you? So why’re you beating yourself up for things you couldn’t do anything about?”

“Because it’s easier than living without control of anything around me,” I admitted. At every turn, some choice, some decision was taken away, and…and I supposed thinking that they were my decisions, my choices…even that agony and guilt was easier than living with the fact that I was a powerless pawn in my own life, being checked again and again and again, waiting for the inevitable final checkmate.

Tom was quiet again, for a few seconds. “Um…I don’t know which genre of inspirational quotes to search for that one. Oh, let’s try control.” A few seconds of clacking on his keyboard. “Oh, hell, no. Now I’m on a BDSM website. Holy shit, how do I—get off—oh God, no I didn’t mean to click that, oh my God oh my God oh my God nononononono—”

I was frozen in limbo between sympathetic horror and genuine laugher, and I couldn’t stop the laugh the burst from my lips as I listened to him flail on the other line. Laughing hurt in ways I never thought I could hurt, it hurt in my mind and my soul because I didn’t feel like laughing at all, but it was also warm, and light. It was a pinprick of light in my darkening mind.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. I’ll—I’ll never be the same. Oh my God, why would she—she was—and he—holy _shit_ —”

“Tom, Tom,” I managed through manic laughter that genuinely, physically hurt, it was so powerful. “Stop, I can’t—I can’t breathe—” I dissolved into laughter again, and I felt the eyes of the other patrons, but I couldn’t stop.

In another couple seconds, Tom was laughing with me through the receiver, and when I closed my eyes, I could almost pretend he was on the other side of the table with his own cup of coffee after a long, cold football practice, and we were laughing at nothing and everything. Ian and Jack were waiting at home, and I would go to bed that night full and safe and blissfully ignorant of the world and its horrors.

For a split second, a sense of euphoria filled me, and dream took hold, and I almost cried at how good it felt.

Our laughter trailed off after a few long, beautiful seconds, and the aftershocks stole my breath and I _giggled_ again, like a little girl. “That was, um…that was hilarious.”

Tom breathed shakily, still recovering from his own fit. “Maybe for you. I saw things I never want to see again. Whoever I end up with is going to have to be okay with more traditional bedroom practices, because—no. Just… _no_.”

I laughed again. I still hurt, in horrible ways, but ten minutes on the phone with Tom, and the world was already getting brighter.

“Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“Of course,” he said, and I almost cried again, because it was immediate, and genuine. He wasn’t asking for anything, and I didn’t feel like I had to give him anything, but he was here anyways, taking my baggage and my brokenness and making me laugh on a dark, dark day. “I wish I could do more. I wish I could _help_ more.”

“You’re here,” I said quietly. “You’re still here after everything. I don’t—that’s more than—than a lot of people. Than most people.”

“I’m not most people, arse,” he griped. “I’m the awesome best mate.”

I smiled. “Yeah. You are.”

“And if you forget it, I’ll beat it back into you. Clear?”

“Clear.”

“Good. Now go…call someone to come get you, and then call me back and stay on the phone with me until they get there. If you don’t, I swear, I’m boarding another Red-eye, and then I’ll have to search for K-Unit’s flat, and then I’ll be _extra_ mad.”

I didn’t really want to face what I’m sure was a very irate K-Unit just yet, but I knew Tom would worry until I was in the presence of another human being who knew me. “Okay. I’ll call you back in a minute.”

“Okay.”

I hung up and looked at the spam in my inbox, including a very angry message from Fox telling me that if I wanted to keep disappearing, he’d implant a tracker in me while I slept. I had another message from Wolf that was…too explicit to repeat. A couple from Snake, asking if I was alright, if I needed anything. And a couple from Eagle, who seemed genuinely worried.

I called Eagle. He was closest.

He picked up on the first ring. “Cub? Where are you?”

“Sorry,” I said immediately, glancing at the name of the coffee shop. “I’m in Café Noel. I think around Kensington. I’ll send you my location.”

I took the phone from my ear to send him my geographical location, seeing his read receipt.

“Okay, I’m on my way,” he said. “Damn, you wandered pretty far, kid. Are you okay? You disappeared. I got there to pick you up and you were gone.”

I paused, sipping my lukewarm coffee. “Um…I’m fine. Just…I’ll tell you when you’re here, yeah?”

Eagle paused, obviously not too pleased, but surrendered. “Okay, fine. Stay on the line with me.”

“I promised Tom I’d call him back.”

“Oh, the friend from L-Unit’s flat? He’s a scary little devil.”

I chuckled despite myself. “I know. I shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

“Fine. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Thanks. I’m sorry.”

“Stop being sorry. It’s fine. I’ll see you in a few.”

I hung up and rang Tom back. I didn’t much feel like talking anymore, so I let him regale me with the dates he’d had with Rhea so far, who seemed like a very nice girl. She was our age, with coffee brown skin and hazelnut eyes. He sent me a picture—she was really pretty. She spoke fluent Italian and Hindi, and was proficient enough in English, but Tom said he was learning some Italian, too, to make things easier.

If this girl could get Tom to study at all, she was something special.

He’d just gotten to their most recent theatre date when I saw Eagle park very illegally right outside and fight the bitter winds, the chime at the door announcing his arrival. He zeroed in on me, and I informed Tom that Eagle was here.

“Oh, Eagle? I thought you would’ve called Fox.”

“Eagle was closest,” I explained, glancing at him. He looked a little disheveled, and I felt my guilt multiply. I was sure he’d been a little miffed that I’d disappeared on him. “I’ll call you later.”

“Yeah, talk later,” Tom said. “Call me whenever you need me. Promise?”

I smiled. “Promise.”

“Okay. Bye, mate.”

“Bye.”

I hung up, and took a second, and looked at Eagle, waiting for him to yell, or get mad, or…well, anything. Instead, he looked at the coffee cup, and then at me. I was sure I looked awful.

“You ready?” He said simply.

I nodded, getting up onto my crutch, reluctant to leave the warmth of the chair. Eagle took my cup to the dish bin, and I thanked the barista again. We made it back to the car before he got towed, thankfully, and set out. Eagle immediately turned on the seat warmers and blasted the heat, turning down the radio.

It was silent for a long time as I waited for the anger, but Eagle just stared ahead as he drove, seemingly calm. Finally, after twenty minutes of silence, which was so uncharacteristic of Eagle, I blurted out, “You’re not yelling at me.”

Eagle glanced over, confusion on his face. “No. Why would I yell at you?”

I blinked. “Um…I disappeared? Again?”

He shrugged, looking back to the road. “I mean, a warning or location would have been nice, and I _was_ worried, but you’re an adult. And you don’t seem like you’re having a very good day.”

I looked away, cringing slightly at the adult comment, and shrugged.

“I’m pretty good at talking, or so I’ve been told, but I can listen, too,” he said after another short stretch of silence. “I don’t know your story, and I know you’d prefer it to stay that way for right now, but you can talk about whatever.”

Eagle, true to his word, didn’t say another word. He didn’t look at me, or ask questions, but he left the silence open for the words I needed to say. Problem was, I didn’t know where to start, or if I wanted to at all. But I needed to talk. I hated therapy, I hated being analyzed and feeling like I was in a pressure cooker with every question asked, but the secrecy was horrible, and I hated it more.

Still. Maybe if it was Lion, or one of the others, I could talk. But it felt like I’d only just met Eagle, and I wasn’t ready for that.

“I don’t like therapy,” I said instead, leaning my head on the window and closing my eyes as the world blurred by with dizzying clarity.

“Bad session?”

“Yeah.”

“Mm,” Eagle acknowledged. “It’s not my favorite, but I don’t hate it. Been in therapy since I was…mm…fifteen?”

I wanted to ask why, but I didn’t want to be rude, either. “I did a couple sessions in the States and didn’t like it, so I stopped. Now I have to do it here and I like it less.”

Eagle smirked. “Yeah. My therapist was named Sarah. She was…not gentle. But it was what I needed.” Eagle paused for a second, and I didn’t look at him, opening my eyes to watch the scenery blur by. “Yeah. I have GAD. Generalized Anxiety Disorder? Manifested after my friend died in a car crash. I was in the passenger seat, so I had a pretty big survivor’s guilt trip going on.”

I glanced over, sympathy flaring in my chest. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

“It was a long time ago. We were stupid kids. He was sixteen, didn’t have his license, but we wanted to go out to some stupid party. We took his sister’s car while she was out. We figured it would be fine. Anyway, I wasn’t doing great with it, so I went to therapy. Never really cared for it, but Sarah helped a lot. Now I see somebody on base. He’s not Sarah, but it works fine.”

“Mm,” I said, eyes furrowed in sympathy. I knew what it felt like to lose people, and I’d even seen them die, but…I wasn’t beside them when it happened. I wasn’t within an arm’s reach, unable to stop it. “That sucks. I’m sorry, Eagle.”

Eagle shrugged, eyes on the road. “Like I said. Long time ago. Besides, sounds like you’ve had your fair share of losses.” I glanced at him, and he smiled sideways at me. “I may be a chatterbox with the best of them, but I know how to listen, too. You talk like someone who gets it.”

“I do,” I admitted quietly.

Eagle nodded. He didn’t speak for a couple more minutes.

“Thanks for not being pissed when I called,” I said.

He laughed. “Of course. Snake and I are chill like that. Fox and Wolf are going to murder you.”

I scowled. “Lovely.”

“Tell you what. Want to kill some time before we go back to the flat? I’ve still got a bit of shopping to do. It’ll give Wolf and Fox some time to cool off. Plus, Snake is probably still studying. I think his exam’s…day after tomorrow? I swear, the man can procrastinate with the best of them. Well, he’ll be fine.”

“I thought he had the memory of a goldfish.”

“He does, but you should see him when he gets studying. His memory’s scary good for academics.”

“Hm,” I said noncommittally. “Where do you want to go?”

“Do you like books?”

I glanced over. “Uh, yeah.”

“Good. You can help me find something for my little brother. I hate reading.”

I laughed a little at the pure disgust in his voice, but didn’t disagree. I liked bookstores. They were peaceful places.

We went to one just outside Oxford, a bit of a drive from where he picked me up, but I didn’t mind. I liked driving around. It was a small little bookshop nestled at the end of a mall with towering shelves. Christmas lights were taped to several of the bookshelves, casting multi-colored shadows along the hardwood floors.

“What kind of books does your brother like?” I asked as I perused the shelves. I’d felt recovered enough to leave my crutch in the car, and I enjoyed the freedom of walking around without it.

“What do you mean?”

“Does he like fiction, nonfiction? Both?”

Eagle blinked, looking completely lost surrounded by books and journals. “Uh…the printed kind?”

I raised an eyebrow and sighed. I didn’t have a bloody clue how I’d become K-Unit’s personal shopper, but I supposed there was no helping it now. “Okay, well, how old is he?”

“Twenty.”

“Um…if he’s studying literature, he’s probably read all the classics,” I muttered.

“How’d you know he studied literature?” Eagle asked, trailing his fingers along the spines of the books beside him, scanning the titles with interest.

I sent him a confused look. “You said it on the way to London.”

“Oh, shit, you actually listened to that?” He asked, eyebrows touching his hairline. “Oh, that was my rambling. Anxiety habit. I do it when I’m nervous, and you were so quiet, I just started talking. I didn’t think you actually listened.”

“Of course, I did,” I responded, continuing to look at the adult fiction titles. There were a lot of new releases I hadn’t been able to read. “You were talking.”

Eagle didn’t say anything, and I didn’t ask him to. I didn’t see his expression, but he hummed in surprise after a minute, and I continued looking.

“What other stuff does he like? Besides books.”

“Um. He never really cared for science. He was into role playing games when he was in secondary school.”

“So maybe fantasy…” I scanned the shelves until I found the fantasy titles. “Romance or no?”

“Yes, but he’s gay, so probably not traditional romance. He’s out, by the way, so it’s not a secret you have to keep, or anything.”

“He might like this one, then,” I said, plucking a red book off the shelf and handing it to Eagle. “The main character’s gay. And it’s fantasy. The ending is infuriating, but the story is good.”

Eagle blinked, then looked at me with gratitude fit for a king. “You’re my hero, Cub.”

“I think any of the employees could’ve helped with that,” I said with a little smile, perusing for myself. I didn’t have any money, but I might try to come back here eventually, so I put some titles away for future purchases. “But I’m glad I could help.”

“Do you feel better?”

I glanced at him after a second, thinking about the question. I was still…heavy. Sad. For some reason, with the holidays so close, instead of being thankful for everything I had, it seemed like everything I’d lost was being highlighted in startling clarity. The fact that this would be my first Christmas without Jack. The fact that I’d never even gotten to share a Christmas with Sabina, or my parents. The fact that I didn’t even know what Yassen celebrated, if he did at all. The fact that Ian, who’d tried so, so hard to be home for Christmas every year, didn’t have that option anymore.

But between talking to Tom, the coffee, the bookshop, and Eagle’s distractions…

“…yeah. I think…yeah, a little bit. Thank you.”

Eagle smiled. “I’m glad. Distractions always help me when I get slumped. Only for so long, but then you’re in a bit of a better place to continue your day, you know?”

Well…it made sense. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Anytime. If you need to talk anymore, you can come to me, yeah? If Tom isn’t available, or whatever.”

I smiled, and it was probably the easiest one of the day. “Thanks, Eagle.”

He patted me on the shoulder and paid for his book, leaving me to ponder his words.

Maybe I had a couple more people to rely on, after all.

…

Fox was mad.

Wolf was furious.

“—of all the bull-headed, stupid, _reckless_ decisions you could possibly make—”

And more things of that nature. Poor Eagle had tried to plead my case, but Wolf wasn’t having it. The first thing that surprised me when I walked into the flat was the ridiculously amazing smell coming from the kitchen, and then Eagle telling Wolf to go easy on me, that I’d had a rough session, but he was skirting around Eagle before he could get most of his words out.

I hardly had time to lean my crutch against the wall and take a look around the room before Wolf was raining hellfire on my head in the form of a Spanglish tirade. I stood frozen in the doorway as he yelled, red in the face and pacing the foyer, finally trailing off and muttering in frantic Spanish.

“ _Maldito idiota, no puedo creer que fueras tan estúpido como para irte por tu cuenta sin nosotros cuando estás siendo perseguido por medio mundo, idiota, Dios qué pasaría si algo hubiera pasado…Dios mio…”_

I didn’t particularly enjoy getting yelled at, but the concentration required to keep up with Spanish _and_ English was enough of a distraction from his message that I could stand it.

“Lo siento,” I said eventually, and he stopped, glancing at me.

“¿Hablas español?” His eyes were suspicious.

“Sí.”

“Oh. Well, good, you understood everything, then. Damn idiot. Get the hell in here. Have you eaten today?”

I blinked at the sudden change of topic. “Um…coffee.”

“Son of a bitch, you’re as bad as Snake. Go eat. _Malditos bastardos, sacándome de mi maldita mente_. _Ai, Santa Maria…_ ”

I blinked again, frozen as Wolf stormed to his room and shut the door so hard the picture frames on the wall shook, and I flinched.

“You might want to come eat before I rescind Wolf’s offer,” Fox said, eyes dark. “What the hell were you thinking, disappearing again? Once wasn’t enough?”

I was going to answer him, but my words were stolen as I entered the kitchen. “Holy shit. What happened?”

There were at least five dishes on the stove wrapped in tin foil, tamales on the counter beside those, and four other sides crammed on the tiny kitchen island. It looked like an explosion of Hispanic and vegetarian. Eagle was already fixing a plate piled high with grilled veggies and tofu.

“Wolf’s Hispanic. He cooks when he’s worried,” Eagle said. “But don’t tell him I said that. He likes us to think he isn’t human.”

I stood still for a second, absorbing that interesting tidbit of information, and hobbled into the kitchen. “Um…okay.”

Snake emerged from the bathroom a moment into my making my plate. I wasn’t very hungry, and I felt kind of bad that my plate was so sparse when there was so much food, but I figured Snake needed it more than me. He looked like a corpse who’d just crawled out of someone else’s grave.

“I heard Wolf yelling,” he said tiredly. “I hope he’s done. I have to—” He was interrupted by a huge yawn that had my jaw aching in sympathy. “Study.”

“You need to go to bed,” Fox said with a look, closing Snake’s textbook and tossing it into the living room and onto the sofa. “Cub’s back safe, everyone’s home for the night, so you can quit worrying. You need to _sleep_.”

“I have to—” Another yawn. “Study, though.”

“No. Sleep. Now.”

Snake looked barely able to blink at Fox, so I wasn’t surprised when he nodded in reluctance. “Fine.” He turned bleary eyes on me, and I was surprised he could even keep them open with how bloodshot they were. “Glad ye’re safe. Quit disappearing.” Another yawn. “Okay. I’m goin’ to die now.”

“See you tomorrow when you respawn,” Eagle said through a mouthful of tofu.

Snake disappeared into his room, and a second after the door closed, I heard him flop onto his bed. He started snoring seconds later.

“Is he alright?” I asked with a spoonful of rice halfway to my mouth.

“He’ll be fine after his exam. He’s always like this,” Fox said, eyeing Snake’s door. Soon, though, his eyes zoned in on my plate. “You haven’t eaten all day, and you’re eating two spoonfuls of rice and a tamale?”

I glanced at my plate and shrugged. “I’m not hungry.”

Something more like concern than anger appeared on Fox’s face, but he just shook his head and sat heavily at the table. “Come sit down. You had PT today, I bet you’re sore.”

I hesitated, because sitting at the table meant I couldn’t easily escape his questions, but he was right about being sore. Reluctantly, I sat, and nibbled on my tamale. Wolf was a better cook than I gave him credit for.

“Why’d you disappear again?” Fox asked, his stare unyielding even as I looked at the table.

I shrugged. “I didn’t mean to.” Well, that wasn’t entirely true. “I mean, I wasn’t running off, or anything. I just wanted space.”

“Space,” Fox repeated with a raised eyebrow. “You wanted space, so you disappeared from your therapy appointment and into the freezing streets of London, ignoring our calls and text messages and only calling Eagle an hour and a half later.” He paused for what I assumed was dramatic effect, and I took another bite of rice. “That’s a lot of space.”

“What do you want from me, Ben?” I asked tiredly, completely and utterly through with everyone’s bullshit today. “What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t want you to say anything. I want you to understand that you’re—” He froze, glancing at Eagle. I assumed he’d been about to say something about my being hunted like an animal by one of the world’s most powerful intelligence agencies, of which Eagle didn’t know.

Eagle, bless him, took the hint. “I’ll disappear for now, but I’m coming back out for seconds in a minute,” he said, heading to his room, patting my shoulder on the way. “Don’t be too hard on him, Fox, okay?”

Fox rolled his eyes. Eagle sighed, and I heard a quiet tap as his door closed. Well, no one to save me now. I continued to nibble on my tamale, my stomach rolling.

“You know, we can’t protect you if we can’t find you,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like I was a child who didn’t understand the world around me, so he had to explain it with small words.

I was too tired to be angry. I’d been angry for so long.

“I had a bad day. I wanted space.”

“Bad day? Like how?”

I eyed him. “Bad like I yelled at my therapist after he made me have a panic attack and told him I didn’t need his or anyone’s help and that I hated therapy, wandered around London until I found an open bench, left a voicemail on my dead guardian’s cellphone, called Tom and told him I was _not_ doing well, called Eagle, and came back to be yelled at, and I’m too tired to give a single shit about any of it anymore.”

“…so, bad,” Fox agreed after a moment, not looking quite as guilty as I would’ve liked, but not as angry, either. “Why didn’t you just call and let us know you needed your _space_ , then?”

I gave him the flattest bitch-face I could muster. “What part of ‘bad day’ do you not understand?”

He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair, and dragged a hand down his face. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

“You don’t have to _do_ anything with me.”

“Obviously I do, because you keep disappearing, and if it happens one day and you’re found, what’re you going to do then?”

“Figure it out,” I said. “I always do.”

“That is the first thing that gets people in our line of work killed,” he said seriously. “Stop that train of thought right now. You can’t do everything alone.”

“I have so far.”

He stopped after that one, really stopped, and his eyes went blank. Ben Daniels, MI6 spy, was reemerging, and I almost preferred an angry Fox to the blank stare. After a second of locked eyes, he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “That’s not true and you know it.”

I dropped my tamale onto the plate and didn’t pay any mind to how the rice bounced onto the table. “Don’t you fucking tell me what I have and haven’t done. I don’t know what you’re trying to do, Ben. I trust you. I may even rely on you. That doesn’t mean you’re my _keeper_. You said you wondered what happened to me, after Major Yu? You were worried about me? Well, you sure tried hard to find me to see, didn’t you?”

I ignored the pale flicker of guilt in his eyes and continued on. “In the past year and a half, I have lost four people who were important to me, and three of them I loved so much it hurt. In the middle of it all, I was thrown into mission after mission, and I met a lot of people just like you who protected me and then left, even though they knew it would just happen again. I don’t blame you,” I said as he opened his mouth to defend himself, eyes blank again. “That’s not why I’m angry. But you don’t have to be isolated to be alone, and I’ve been alone for a long time. So yes, Fox, I’ve repeatedly done things alone, and I’m not dead, not for lack of fucking trying. Excuse me if I’d like to stick to something familiar rather than lean on you and three borderline strangers.”

Fox was quiet for a long time, eyes searching mine for something, anything, but I felt the anger I’d thought I was too exhausted to feel blaze in mine as I held his stare. I dared him to try me again, because I was done. I was done, and I couldn’t be done, but I was _done_.

“What’s different about L-Unit?” He asked after a long moment, I suppose trying to go for safe territory. “Don’t tell me you feel alone when you’re with them, because I know that’s not true.”

“I don’t feel alone with them, because they earned it.”

Fox’s eyes were blank, but I knew blank eyes. I could see pain, and guilt, that he didn’t want to feel. “I know I didn’t make all stellar decisions, but I just don’t want to see you get hurt anymore, and I’m sorry if I come off a little strong, but that’s true. Why haven’t I earned it?”

I paused, thrumming my fingers on the table, thinking of Jessie. “You know about MI6, but they know about someone else. Someone bad, and bad things that I did, and they’re still around. And—” I paused, and thought what the hell. What did secrets matter anymore? Secrets were useless if the crushed me before I could handle them. “You saved me from other people, and I’m grateful, but they saved me from myself.”

Fox’s eyes darkened rapidly. “Alex—”

“I’m tired.”

“You’re always tired.”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

Fox didn’t look happy. Not at all. But he took a deep breath, and he said, “Just…finish eating, then go to bed. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Fox left. I did as I was told, and tossed and turned for hours before I realized that I wouldn’t sleep, because my mind was running far too quickly to relax. I lay awake in the dark until I finally slipped into a doze filled with gunshots and blood and fire.

…

My phone woke me the next morning. I heard someone in the kitchen, and I was surprised that hadn’t woken me up, but I was too distracted by the blood aggravating ringtone to wonder who it was.

I groped for the phone on the other side of the sofa’s bed and answered it without looking at the caller ID. “Hello?” I barely recognized my own voice.

“Hi, is this Matthew? It’s Bella.”

I sat up quickly, wide awake. “Bella? Is Jessie okay?”

Bella laughed quietly, and something in my chest loosened. “Yes, she and her mum are fine, honey. That’s what I called to tell you. Vihaan was arrested yesterday, late last night, and is probably going to be convicted of physical and emotional abuse. Mahika and Jessie have been set up in a Women’s Shelter, but Jessie insisted on coming back here every now and again, just in case you show up.”

I felt warmth bloom in the icy cold depression from yesterday. It wasn’t gone, but it was something good, something _amazing_ , and…and I was so grateful that little girl and her mum were safe. “That’s awesome. That’s _awesome_. Thank you so much for ringing, Bella.”

“Of course. I should be thanking you,” she said with a smile. “Someone wants to say hi.”

I heard a rustle, then a sweet little voice was floating through the receiver. “Hi—hi, M-Matthew.”

I grinned, really grinned, and sat up straighter. “Hi, Jessie. Bella just told me the good news.”

“Mm-hm! The b-bad man is g-gone, and…and M-Mum is happier. And m-m-me too.”

“I’m really, really glad you’re safe, Jessie.”

“When c-can I…can I see you a-again?”

I smiled, fond and small, and closed my eyes. If only everyone was as pure and sweet as Jessie. “Soon, I hope. I’ll get you a Christmas present.”

“Real…really?!”

“Really. Hopefully I can get it to you before Christmas, but if not, I’ll see you after that. Okay?”

“O-Okay! Bye, Matthew!”

I smiled and whispered a goodbye even though I knew the phone was already back in transit to Bella. “Her stutter is better.”

“It is,” Bella agreed, and I heard Jessie say something in the background, then the laughter of other kids. “She’s enthralled with you, Matthew. You’re all she talks about. She says you’re her knight in shining armor, from the fairytales.”

I felt a fierce blush in my cheeks. I didn’t think I deserved that title, but it was still warm. “Heh. That’s a lot of pressure.”

Bella chuckled. “I’m sure you can handle it. Um…is Henry still away?”

“Yeah, they left a few days ago,” I said, familiar fear humming in my chest before quieting down again. “He’ll be back by Christmas, I think, if you want to call then. He doesn’t have his phone.”

“No, I know,” she said hurriedly. It might’ve been my imagination, but she sounded flustered. “I just—was curious, is all.”

I blinked, feeling a smile curl my lips as I bit my lip to keep from laughing. If I was right, based on the hug I saw them share a week ago, the way her voice rose in pitch just now, the way she hesitated before asking…she was either a really good friend, better than I’d thought, or she was head over heels for Henry. I wondered if he had any idea. Probably not.

“I’ll tell him to call you as soon as he’s back,” I offered, trying to keep the smile out of my voice. “Thanks again for calling.”

“Of course. Take care of yourself, and come back anytime, okay?”

“Yeah, I hope to come back with Bear around the holidays.”

“Great! See you then.”

I said goodbye and hung up, letting myself feel happy for the news.

Screw Vihaan. I hoped he rotted in jail.

“Good news?”

I turned to see Wolf in the door to the living room, drying a pan. His eyebrow was raised, but he didn’t look mad anymore.

I smiled a little. “Yeah. Really good news.”

“Hm. That’s good. Who’s Jessie?”

I stretched as he returned to the kitchen, following him as I hobbled on my leg, waiting for the pins and needles to disappear. “A girl from the youth center Bear works at. I went with him and helped tutor Jessie a little. She opened up to me about—uh, about her mother’s boyfriend, who was abusing them. He was arrested yesterday.”

Wolf’s eyebrows hit his hairline. I supposed he wasn’t expecting that. “Oh. Very good news, then.”

I laughed a little under my breath, grateful that he was in a better mood than last night. “Yeah. Thanks for dinner.”

“I’m surprised you can call it that. Fox said you ate like a bloody baby bird.”

I cringed a little at the remark, but my back was to him as I filled a coffee mug. “I ate enough.”

“I haven’t seen you eat more than two bites at a time since you got here, kid. I’m Hispanic. If I have to force-feed you, you _will_ gain wait before you leave here. My _abuelita_ will haunt my arse forever if you don’t.”

I smirked, but didn’t comment.

“Eagle told me after you’d gone to bed that you had a rough therapy session.”

“Mm-hm,” I said, sipping my coffee, unwilling to turn around.

“Well, I wouldn’t have been so hard on you if I’d known that.”

Ah. Well, it seemed like he was similar to Tiger in that the word “sorry” was forbidden territory, but I knew an apology when I heard one. Besides, I was in a fairly good mood compared to my mope from yesterday, and I didn’t want to spoil it five minutes after I’d woken up by telling that Eagle had tried to mention that _before_ he’d turned into the devil. “It’s fine.”

“Want breakfast?” I opened my mouth. “If you say you’re not hungry, I’m kicking you out.”

Well, there goes that. “Whatever’s easiest.”

Wolf’s eyes narrowed. “You’re like Snake. You’re too passive.”

I blinked. “Um…I’m sorry.”

“That’s what a passive person would say.”

“Well, excuse me for being passive,” I muttered.

“That’s more like it.”

“God, you’re confusing. You yelled at me for ten minutes last night for going for a walk, and now I’m talking back to you, and you’re acting like I’ve won the Nobel.”

“It’s called banter, _chico tonto_. You’re acting like we’re still in Wales. You don’t have to be so uptight all the damn time. It makes me anxious.”

I sipped my coffee. Well, if he wanted banter, fine. I could banter. “Fine. I want four eggs, two scrambled, two fried. Two pieces of avocado toast. Bacon fried in the pan, not in the microwave. And crème brule, while you’re at it.”

Wolf sent me a dark look, and I blinked innocently. “I’m sorry, was that not passive enough?”

I thought he might snap and start yelling, or throw something, but the side of his mouth curled upwards. “You might survive your stay here yet, _muchacho_.”

I couldn’t help but smile. I liked this side of Wolf. Maybe he wasn’t as much of an arse as I thought.

“Cereal is fine, though,” I said after a moment. “Depending on what you have.”

“Passive again. Look in the pantry.”

I rolled my eyes, but did as he said, and came up with a bag of stale Cheerios. “Didn’t you just go shopping?”

“I didn’t see you pitching in your preferred foods. I’m making eggs for myself, anyways, I’ll just make some for everyone.”

“Who’s the _muchacho_ now?”

Wolf threw his spatula at me.

…

Fox got up a little later, and I felt myself tense as soon as he entered the kitchen. If Wolf saw, he didn’t say anything. Eagle ate quickly and left to place his final order for Evie’s engagement ring, on which I wished him luck, and Snake didn’t even come out of his room. Wolf brought him breakfast so he could complete his home stretch of studying in peace.

With Snake and Eagle out of the picture, breakfast was had in tense silence, and Wolf was looking between us like there was a tennis match behind us.

“Okay, what is it?” He finally said as I took my plate to the sink, surprised at myself that I’d managed to eat everything Wolf kept shoving at me. I was full for the first time in a while. His death-glare may have helped, though. “The atmosphere feels like there’s a bloody hand grenade under the table.”

“Alex and I had a disagreement last night, and I have more questions,” Fox said pointedly.

“Fox is an overbearing _tonto_ who doesn’t know when to stop overstepping.”

“Oh, please, Alex. Spare em the dramatics.”

“I’m not being dramatic. You seem to have it in your head that you need to keep an eye on me at every turn, and you don’t.”

“Clearly, someone does! Or did you _ask_ an assassin to shoot you?”

“ _Oi_ ,” Wolf said as I heard the plate clatter in the sink, breathing slowly. Flashes of blood and the smell of gunpowder nearly overwhelmed me, but Wolf’s voice drew me back. “Fox, I am the biggest bloody arsehole I know, and I acknowledge that, and even I’m saying that was a lot.”

“No, he can say whatever the hell he wants,” I cut in, turning to lean against the sink, locking eyes with Ben. “Come on, do you have something else to say? I suppose I asked to be hunted, too, right?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“No, you clearly think I’m incapable of taking care of myself, so what’s your big plan to save me, Fox? What’s the master plan? Are you going to become the Prime Minister and order them down? You going to storm the Bank yourself? Or will you intercept every threat that comes my way, all by yourself? You seem to think you have a handle on this, so please, I want to hear it.”

For once in his life, Wolf actually looked _uncomfortable_. I never thought I’d see the day, but I was too preoccupied by anger to acknowledge it.

Fox was reflecting my anger like a one-way mirror. Different people, same rage.

“I never claimed to have it all figured out, but you did say you’d be just fine on your own, didn’t you?” Fox said, his voice rising in challenge. “Alex Rider, the infallible agent. Make way, folks, other people just slow this one down. If anyone’s going to take on the world guns blazing, it’s going to be you, don’t you think?”

I opened my mouth to start shouting, to say things I’d probably regret, but before I could, Snake’s door opened so suddenly and so forcefully I jumped and reached for the gun in my waistband that wasn’t there.

“If ye make one more _sound_ ,” Snake seethed from the kitchen entry, his face as red as his hair, eyes so bloodshot I might’ve mistaken him for an addict, “I’m goin’ to _personally_ murder all of ye. Understand? Because my exam is _tomorrow_ , and I don’t know if ye’ve noticed, but we’re kind of in rotation eight months of the year, so I don’t get a lot o’ chances to take these. So I can get my medical degree. Which I’ve been trying to earn for _eight years_. So you lot can bloody well get in the car and drive and shout yerselves hoarse, and maybe, if I pass this exam and get my _degree_ , I can prescribe ye cough syrup, or cyanide, whichever I see fit for the occasion. Am I _perfectly_ bloody clear?”

The scariest part about Snake’s threats were that unlike Wolf, or even me or Fox, it was delivered in a voice of deadly calm, smooth as the glassy water in a hurricane’s eye. His voice was quiet, and even, and almost toneless.

I was quick to nod in silence. I wasn’t about to do a single thing to set the man off further. Luckily, Wolf and Fox seemed to have the same idea, because Snake huffed in acceptance and returned to his room with a slammed door and muttered curses.

It was silent for a long moment.

“…he’ll be back to sunshine and dandelions tomorrow after the exam,” Wolf explained as he cleared his plate, making sure the dishes made absolutely no noise in their journey to the sink. His volume was suspiciously low. “He’s always like this around exam time.”

I nodded, unwilling to make a single sound until I was outside this flat.

Fox sighed, seemingly coming to the same conclusion, and grabbed his keys. “Shall we?”

While I didn’t want to be stuck in a car with him at the moment, it was better than the alternative.

I waved goodbye to Wolf and said a silent prayer for his safety as we left him alone with Snake.

Fox drove, but he didn’t speak, so I sulked in the passenger seat and tried not to feel like the teenager I was. I just…his accusations made me feel so _inadequate_. Of course I’d taken care of everything myself. I didn’t have a choice. And he had the nerve to tell me I was wrong? Oh, well, excuse me, then where had this unseen guardian angel been all this time? I must’ve missed him between near death experiences five and six.

That awful desolation from yesterday had given way to anger, and I couldn’t stop it even if I wanted to.

“What did you mean?” Fox said, suddenly enough that I flinched as the silence shattered. “When you said they saved you from yourself.”

Dammit. I shouldn’t have said that. “Exactly what it sounds like.”

Fox’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “When?”

“Fox—”

“ _When_?”

I took a deep breath and leaned my head against the window, watching the slush sluice into the gutters as we drove. “The day before you showed up at the flat. The day the assassin came.”

I pitched forward as Fox slammed on the brakes, panicking for a second as I grabbed the safety handle and the dash, my heart hammering. I heard someone honk and swerve around us, but thankfully we were still on a side street, so that was the only other car on the road.

“What the _hell_ , Fox?” I yelled as I finally got a handle on my racing heart, still tight as a coiled spring. “Are you _trying_ to kill us?”

But Fox was frozen in his seat. His breathing was hard and fast, and his knuckles were white on the steering wheel. His posture was so rigid I thought his spine might snap if he tensed any more. His face was a shade of sick pale, quick enough that I could still see the faint flush in his neck as the blood drained from his face.

I hesitated. He looked like a wild animal. Like he could snap at any moment. “Fox?” I said quietly, afraid to startle him. We were still stopped in the middle of the road. “…Fox?”

Without any warning, he revved the gas and did a one-eighty, and I held on for dear life as the back tires skidded across the icy streets, unwilling to shut my eyes until we evened out and he sped much faster than necessary down the empty street.

“Oh my God, you’re going to get us killed,” I said under my breath, still gripping the safety handle. “Where the hell are we going?”

“Shut up and let me drive.”

I wanted to say something back, anything, but he looked so unsteady I just let him be.

Twenty-five minutes later, we pulled to a stop outside a cemetery. Familiar dread pooled in my gut. I hated cemeteries. Still, I followed Fox down the rows of headstones quietly, shoving my hands in my pockets. I hadn’t had time to grab gloves or a scarf, or even my crutch, and I was freezing, my leg aching from the dropping temperatures. My boots crunched on the muddy snow as we continued inward, my spine tingling each time I stepped over someone’s grave.

Finally, we came to a lonely little gravestone at the end of one row. It was a simple plaque, silver with bronze trim set in a stone base, and it was pristine compared to the others around it, with fresh flowers in the vase.

I barely had time to stop before Fox was whirling on me, fire in his eyes, enough that I took a started step back. His every move was stilted and jagged, his voice serrated with grief. “You see that headstone?” He pointed to it, and I read the name.

_Joseph Daniels. Beloved brother. January 14 th, 2002 – December 12th, 2018._

I didn’t even have time to process the sympathy before Fox was spinning out again. “That’s my brother. My little brother. The kid I played catch with in the yard before going to uni, and the kid I taught to talk to girls and flirt. I was his _world_ until he hit twelve, and then he figured he had to grow up, but he always came to me when he needed help. Always. Every time. So I figured he’d come to me when he needed me. And then he stopped coming, and I figured it was because he was growing up, learning how to deal with his own problems, and I was proud of him for it. And then I got a call from my parents, telling me to deal with my little brother’s funeral because he shot himself.”

I gaped at him, watching Ben Daniels shake in front of his brother’s grave, and he seemed absolutely irreconcilable with the cold man from the dinner table last night. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what I could possibly say to make this the slightest bit better, so I watched in something like horror as he knelt in the snow and touched the freezing stone.

“He got mixed up with bad people. That was when he stopped coming to me for help. They had him running drugs through his school. He got caught, and my holier-than-thou parents disowned him, and instead of coming to me for help, he shot himself. He shot himself.

“So you’re damn well right, Alex. I’m overbearing and overstepping and I’m putting myself in your life because I can’t do it again. I’m sorry I didn’t try to find you, I’m sorry, I’m _so_ sorry. I wanted to. I did. And when I saw you on their sofa, and saw you so hurt…I knew they’d done it again, and I was angry at you, and them, and myself, because I didn’t try to help you. And I’m not religious, but I believe in God, and I figured…it was a second chance. To do for you what I couldn’t do for him and _help_ you. So I’m sorry, _God_ , I’m sorry, but I get so angry because I don’t know if I can do that again, kid. I—”

He stopped, and I shook, and it wasn’t just from the cold. I watched for a long minute as Ben put his face in his hands, his shoulders trembling with repressed sobs that I was all too familiar with. I stood pin straight for a long minute, then knelt beside him.

It had been a long time since I’d hugged someone. I’d _been_ hugged, sure, by Angelica and Jessie and Bear that day I fell apart, but…I thought the last person I’d initiated a hug with might have been Sabina. Maybe it was Tom, when he left back for Italy, but I couldn’t remember.

But I remembered how Fox was so relieved to see me alive on that mission, and he crushed me to him without a second thought. It felt safe for a second. He was inconsolable, and I was out of practice, but I tried it.

I hesitated for a second, but then I bit the bullet and hugged him, my chin on his shoulder as my eyes blurred with sympathetic tears, because…I never thought I’d see him like this. Falling apart in a graveyard as he begged for a second chance. I couldn’t just _not_ do something.

He stilled, but I wouldn’t let go unless he pulled away, and he didn’t. He turned, and he was hugging me back, and it wasn’t so cold anymore.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t look for you,” he said quietly. “And I’m sorry I yelled. I really am.”

I blinked again, and felt tears freeze on my eyelashes with the snowflakes gathered there. “I don’t blame you. I promise. I’m sorry too.”

“Just…let me help you. I know I might not have earned it like L-Unit, and I’m glad you have them, but just…let me support you. Please.”

Ben knew I was sixteen. He was the only one who knew. He knew, no matter how many times I insisted otherwise, that I was a child in over my head and that I was drowning in silence most of the time. He knew I wasn’t nearly as put together as I wanted everyone to think I was.

He knew, so I didn’t have to hide. In this graveyard, with him, I could be sixteen. I could be broken.

I moved, and put my face against his shoulder, and let myself shake. He tightened his arms around me.

“Okay,” I said, broken and ragged.

We stayed there long after my fingers and toes and knees went numb, but the warmth in my chest was too strong for it to matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Muchacho can mean boy, which is how Wolf referred to Alex, but it can also mean servant or maid, which is how Alex referred to Wolf, so it’s kind of a double entendre.
> 
> I have been informed that it doesn’t snow in early to mid-December in England. However, I choose to ignore this meteorological fact because it’s pretty. Please and thank you.
> 
> Okay. I. Loved. This. Chapter. Please let me know what you thought because I am having SO MUCH FUN fleshing K-Unit out and I love them all so much and I miss L-Unit with my whole heart but gahhhhhhhhhh :D
> 
> Also. Hi again! My homework is filing a lawsuit against me for neglect. But I like writing better, haha. Lord, if I could turn out novels as quickly as I do fanfiction, I’d be set. Anyways, hope you liked the chapter! Poor Alex was just kind of having a hard time with the holidays approaching, as we all do after we lose a loved one, and it was really getting to him. But Tom is awesome. And we got to see more of Eagle! I love Eagle, he’s a precious little vegetarian. I feel like Eagle is done so dirty in most stories, so I thought I’d give him some love here.
> 
> And angry Wolf. Hehe. Wolf is a hothead, but it does come from a place of genuine worry. And he was sweet at the end! He’s a big teddy bear. And Fox. Sweet Fox. Poor baby just has no idea how to express his worry, but he’s wonderful. Man, I give them such trauma. I suck. Sorry not sorry.
> 
> Once again, I can’t thank you enough for all your support. Thanks so much! Drop a review!


	31. Chapter 31

Things were better after that.

It was easier to be around them, and I was still worried, still anxious, but I wasn’t constantly on the verge of breaking down. Snake took his exam the next day and came back around one in the afternoon, scarfed down three plates of Wolf’s leftovers, and passed out. I shot Wolf a look halfway between concerned and frightened as I washed rice for him.

Wolf smirked. “He’ll sleep for at least twelve hours. Then he’ll be back to his usual self.”

I blinked. “Is this normal?”

“As normal as he can get, yeah.”

Well, _that_ was healthy. I supposed I wasn’t one to talk, though.

Eagle was a ball of tension, planning and scrapping and re-planning his proposal to Evie— _“Okay, should it be flashy?” “Does she like flashy things?” “I don’t think so.” “Then why in God’s name would you do something flashy?”—_ so even if he was mostly cooped up in the apartment, he wasn’t really _present_. Fox and I were better, too, at least the day after our trip to the cemetery. He wasn’t around much, that morning, and I got the feeling he was a little embarrassed. Not that he had a reason to be, of course, but I could still understand why he was.

Still, we’d made plans to go out in a couple days and go shopping a bit more—I’d yet to buy presents for anyone on my list—and I hoped I’d get to talk to him a little more. I didn’t want him to think I was a risk, or anything, or worry about me, because I—

Well. I wasn’t okay. Not really, especially not now, but…I’d promised Tom, and Lion, and that was enough to keep me here. I hoped that would be enough to convince him.

Wolf cooked. A lot. He also did Christmas shopping, and ran a lot of errands, and went running sometimes with Fox. He didn’t know how to sit still. Tiger could laze around for hours with a book and some coffee, but Wolf never seemed to sit down long enough to breathe. I’d gotten sick of sitting on the couch reading books or watching documentaries, so I found myself joining him when he was up for company. That was how I found myself chopping onions in the kitchen as he worked, blinking tears from my eyes when I hit the center.

When I asked him why he was cooking so much, he said, “My family’s coming in for Christmas, and I’m cooking this year. I’m practicing.”

I blinked. “You’re…practicing?”

“ _Yes_ , I’m practicing. _Mi_ _madre_ always cooks, but since Snake and I are in our own apartment now, we’re having it here. Extremely late house-warming party, they called it. I think Fox is staying, too, but Eagle is making himself scarce. Practicing also means I’m going to have a shit ton of leftovers, so you better start pulling your weight and eat some,” he added with a strict flourish of his ladle. (1)

I rolled my eyes, moving on to crush some garlic with a mortar and pestle. I’d never actually used one of these things before, and it was really cool, not that I’d ever admit it. “Is Snake close to your family?”

Wolf eyed me as he sautéed some bell peppers and onions, shoving a tiny dish of _picada_ in my face. “Try it.”

I obeyed, and my brain short-circuited. “Holy shit.”

“Good holy shit or bad holy shit?”

“ _Awesome_ holy shit,” I corrected. “Why didn’t you become a chef? Wow. This is better than at some of the Spanish restaurants I’ve been to.”

Wolf scoffed. “Never call those damn British knock-offs Spanish restaurants in my presence again.”

I laughed, feeling a lot better than yesterday. Maybe it was the increased sense of inclusivity in the apartment, or it was my immediate fear for L-Unit slowly adjusting, or a combination. But…I felt a little better. “I meant in Spain. I lived there for about a year.”

“Oh. Carry on, then. And to answer your question, there’s a bit of a story, but Snake’s my brother.”

I stopped grinding the garlic and glanced at him, too surprised to be able to hide my expression. I didn’t want to seem rude, but I gave him a once over, then glanced at Snake’s closed bedroom door, contemplating the ridiculously obvious Hispanic genes and Snake’s ridiculously pale skin and red hair and Scottish accent. Not to mention the fact that they didn’t exactly act like they were brothers in Wales, when I’d first come.

Wolf smirked. “Told you there was a story.”

He didn’t elaborate further, and I didn’t want to pry, so I continued chopping in silence, sending him a raised eyebrow. I supposed stranger things had happened. They certainly acted like brothers, more so than with Fox and Eagle, anyway. They bickered like Tom and I sometimes did.

Well, it must’ve been one hell of a story, but I wasn’t going to ask about it if Wolf didn’t want to talk about it. By the time Wolf was finally done, I’d had to sit down to rest my leg, and he didn’t look too far behind me. He handed me a plate loaded with samples and a glare.

I opened my mouth to say I wasn’t hungry, but he said, “If you tell me you’re not hungry, I swear, I’m going to force feed you. Bloody hell, are you _ever_ hungry?”

To avoid answering, I tried the _pozole_ and promptly went to heaven. “This is amazing.”

“You’re deflecting, but thank you.”

I smiled a little as I sipped on the hot soup, still not hungry, but I’d be damned if I let something this good go to waste. “What’s your family like?”

“Huge and obnoxious,” he griped as he started to package the leftovers with gratuitous tin foil. “Four siblings, not including Snake, even more cousins, a dozen munchkins—which reminds me, I need to child-proof this whole damn place—and my _abuelito_ , my parents, and my two aunts and three uncles.” (2)

“Wow,” I managed, sipping at the soup. “Can you fit them all in here?” The flat was big by English standards, but it wasn’t big enough for what sounded like thirty people.

“Oh, definitely not, but somehow I’m going to manage,” he grumbled. “They insisted, and it’s very hard to say no to Hispanic women. I’m gonna end up putting half of them up in a hotel down the road and cramming all the munchkins in Snake’s room, and Eagle’s, if he’s staying with Evie.”

I laughed a little. “That’s going to be interesting.”

“Yeah, it’ll be something. God, the little terrors are tornadoes. I’m gonna have to store everything breakable in Fox’s room…”

“Can I help you get ready?” I offered as he started playing Tetris with the leftovers, trying to shove three and a half feasts into the fridge. “I feel bad, I haven’t done much to help.”

“You’ve been my sous chef,” he offered with a grunt as he shoved a platter of tamales on top of a precarious Tupperware of _pollo a la pepitoria_. “But if you’re bored, knock yourself out. They’ve got a couple toddlers, so I have to proof all the outlets and stuff. Is your leg okay for that kind of work?”

“Yeah, it’s almost completely healed, I think,” I said, flexing it in thought. “Lissa said one or two more sessions, as long as I didn’t get hurt anymore, and I should be okay.”

Wolf snorted. “Yeah. You, the danger magnet, avoiding injuries? I’m betting against you.”

I flipped him off because I couldn’t come up with enough evidence in my favor to disagree with him.

Wolf returned the gesture, then continued like it hadn’t happened. “Anyway, we gotta get rid of all the glass, too. Snake’s good with kids, so he’s on babysitting duty while I cook, but even he can’t corral twelve little _diablos_ all by himself.” (3)

I smirked. This was actually pretty nice. I was glad the Wolf from Brecon Beacons seemed to be somewhat replaced with a lot more mature guy with a personality that consisted of more than scowls and swears, though those were pretty common too. “I bet you’re great with the kids.” I didn’t think I could’ve made it more sarcastic if I’d tried.

He gave me a glare. “I scare them.”

“I’m sure you don’t.” Devil’s advocate, but he didn’t have to know that.

“Oh, I scare them, alright. They call me _malvada Tío Jaime_.” **(4)**

I snorted, choking on a laugh, trying not to be rude. “They don’t.”

“Oh, they do. After I yelled at Alejandro about not eating dirt. Because, you know, that’s evil.”

“Okay, but did you yell at them like an _uncle_ or like you yelled at me during training?” I reasoned, pitying whatever poor kid had to endure that kind of wrath from Wolf.

Wolf eyed me, and didn’t say a word.

“Oh, God. Those poor kids.”

“Shut up, you bloody prat.”

…

“Wait, what if she doesn’t like the ring?” Eagle blurted out at dinner that night, nearly murdering a _chorizo_ as he fled the table to the living room, where he had a scarily detailed notebook of how and when and where he was going to propose. “Shit, shit, shit, I _knew_ I should’ve gone with the trellis setting…”

Fox rubbed his temples. “It’s fine, Eagle. She’s going to love whatever you get her.”

“I know, but I don’t just want her to love it ‘cause I got it,” he defended, his voice muffled. I bet he had a pencil in his mouth. He did that a lot. I ate another bite of rice and turned around to watch the show through the hallway. “Should I exchange it? Is that a thing?”

“No, you need to calm the hell down and be a man,” Wolf muttered. “Give me grace, Mason, you’re not going to get a chance to propose, because I’m going to bloody murder you before then. Evie’s head over heels for you, for reasons I still cannot fathom, and she’s going to say yes. Now get your arse in here and finish eating.”

I blinked, side-eyeing Wolf, but he didn’t seem to notice that he’d just become a middle-aged mother.

“He never notices, don’t worry about it,” Fox whispered.

“What was that?”

“Hm?” Fox said, blinking innocently over his beer. “Oh, nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

I hid a smile behind my hand, but I wasn’t very discreet, because Wolf trained his eyes on me. “Quit laughing.”

“M’not,” I defended.

“Should I propose in the park or on the ice rink?” Eagle shouted.

“Ice rink,” Fox said. “Very romantic. Picturesque. Do you have someone to take pictures?”

“I was hoping you would,” Eagle admitted with a hesitant glance at Fox.

Fox scowled. “There’s nothing I’d like to do less.” If I didn’t know Fox as well as I did (which wasn’t incredibly well, but well enough) I’d pity Eagle for having a best friend like him, but I think everybody knew Fox was just being difficult for the hell of it.

“I thought you were the best man,” I muttered, enjoying Fox’s tepid look of betrayal as I picked apart his defense.

“That’s right! You agreed, compadre, you’re taking pictures,” Eagle said with a devilish grin. “No backing out now.”

Ben’s face screwed up in something like physical disgust, but he just sighed. “Fine. I’ll just freeze my bollocks off hiding behind a frozen tree for an hour while you stall. Sounds like the perfect Christmas.”

“You’re not going home?” I asked in a spurt of curiosity, sipping on some tea.

“Nope.”

I blinked, a little surprised by the abrupt response, but I supposed it made sense. I didn’t want to pry, either. He’d spoken about his mom and sister like he still kept in touch, but after what he’d told me about what his parents did to his brother…I couldn’t imagine they had the best relationship.

“You spending Christmas with L-Unit?” Wolf asked, clearing his plate.

“Yeah,” I said, thinking. I still had a lot to do to get ready for Christmas, actually. “I think so, as long as they’re back by then. They…should be, right?”

“They’ll be back within the week, you’ll see,” Eagle said reassuringly, but he sounded distracted. “Do you have any other family coming in?”

“No.” I nixed an explanation with another particularly long sip of tea. “I do still need to get presents, though. And I need to get something for Tom and Jessie.”

“Tom, from your flat Tom?” Wolf asked, raising an eyebrow.

I smirked, already knowing what was coming. “Yeah.”

“He’s…something,” Wolf admitted with pinched eyebrows.

I texted Tom before he’d even finished speaking, because I wanted him to know just how much of an impression he’d left on this SAS Unit. “He’s gonna love hearing that. Eagle and Fox have already called him frightening. Only Snake hasn’t admitted it yet.”

As if summoned, Snake stumbled out of his room, looking like he’d just come off a month-long bender and stumbled into a bar. “Food,” he said simply.

Wolf, ever in denial of the mother he obviously was, wordlessly handed Snake a plate already made, nearly overflowing with an assortment of food from the counters. I honestly had no idea how these guys stayed in shape on their breaks with Wolf’s cooking.

Snake blinked at the plate that had been shoved into his hand, then looked at Wolf with squinting eyes. “ _Gracias, lobo_.” (5)

Wolf’s eye twitched at the nickname, and I barely swallowed a laugh, but I doubted Snake was even cognizant enough to understand a lecture if Wolf wanted to give one. “Your accent is rubbish,” Wolf chastised. “Go back to bed.”

“I wanted to eat out here.” Snake sounded almost petulant.

“Then eat, then go sleep.”

Snake plopped down at the permission and started eating, eyeing Eagle in the living room, and me and Fox. “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s overthinking the proposal,” Fox explained. “I’m now a photographer, even though I’ve never taken one good picture in my life.”

“Better learn, mate,” Snake said, scarfing down two tamales like it was the first he’d eaten in a week. “Otherwise Evie’s gonna have ye’re head.”

Fox blinked. “Oh. Evie’s going to be infinitely madder than Eagle if I screw this up. I didn’t realize that.”

“I don’t want to see Evie mad,” I admitted. She was super nice, sure, but if she could handle Eagle and the rest of K-Unit, she must’ve had a mean streak a mile wide underneath all the smiles.

“No, you don’t,” Snake and Wolf said at the same time, which made me smile.

Snake finished eating a few minutes later and took his plate to Wolf, then rounded on me. “We’re goin’ shoppin’ tomorrow, if that’s alright.”

I blinked, peering at him over the top of my glass. “Huh?”

“Shopping,” he reiterated as he rummaged in the fridge for a drink, pushing aside copious platters of miscellaneous food. “For groceries.”

My jaw dropped. “You want to get _more food_?”

“Don’t be fooled by his girlish figure,” Wolf chimed in, filling the sink with water. “He eats like a football player who’s been starved for a week.”

“I can see that,” I say carefully, watching Snake guzzle two sodas before peeking into one of the foil-wrapped dishes.

Wolf smacks him with a spatula. “You’re going to make yourself sick, dumbarse.”

“Yes, Mum,” Snake says dutifully. “Anyway, yes, we’re goin’ shoppin’, unless you really don’t want. You eat like a baby bird on a diet, and I’d like to find something ye’ll actually eat at the store.”

I blinked, feeling a blush creep up my neck. “I like Hispanic food.”

“That’s good, but I want to find more stuff you like,” Snake said, stealing a tamale when Wolf’s back was turned. “Plus Christmas Eve is my birthday, and as much as I love Hispanic food, I want Rumbledethumps and Dundee Cake so bad I think I’m goin’ ta die.”

I wasn’t sure what words had just come out of his mouth, but… “Yeah. That’s fair.” I’d splurged on my birthday and left the homeless shelter to spend some of my savings on some pastries Jack and I got on my birthday with Ian, when he was in town.

“Good, we’ll leave after lunch,” he said through a mouthful of picada. Wolf had obviously noticed, but he seemed rather resigned to the foraging. “Is that okay?” I nodded dumbly, unsure how _I’d_ been roped into his shopping trip. “I’m goin’ back into hibernation.”

He stumbled back to his room. I glanced at Wolf, waiting for some kind of explanation, but he just shrugged. “Don’t look at me. No one is ever going to be able to explain him.”

Fox snorted and ruffled my hair as he passed. I fought the urge to swat his hand away on principle. “I’m going to shower.”

With Fox gone and Eagle indisposed, and Snake yet again unconscious, I said to Wolf, “I didn’t think you and Snake knew each other in Wales.”

“We didn’t,” Wolf confirmed, sitting down with a bottle of beer. He uncapped it on the table with a _pop_ , then took a swig. “We got close and my family adopted him. Unofficially, considering he’s an adult, but whatever. Family doesn’t end in blood.”

I smiled at that, my mind wandering. “Yeah. I agree with you there.”

Wolf gave me a searching look, finishing his beer. “What about your family?”

I glanced at Wolf, who was still looking at me with curious eyes, and I knew he wanted to know what the hell had happened to me since Point Blanc. I obviously wasn’t the kid he knew then, not anymore, and it was more than apparent that he needed the truth. But that wasn’t something I could give yet.

“They’ve mostly died,” I admitted reluctantly, eluding any explanation or circumstance, “at one point or another. I think of Tom as family.” I paused, considering. “L-Unit is…they’re almost there.”

Wolf raised an eyebrow. “Really?” He didn’t say anything about my first statement. I was grateful. I guessed Wolf would be, surprisingly, easy to talk to about this kind of thing, since he didn’t seem very curious.

I nodded. “Yeah. They’re almost there.”

And I was surprised to find that it was true. Even if we hadn’t known each other long…this horrible ache I got when I thought of them in danger, when I thought of them so far away from me where I was unable to protect them…it hurt. It hurt enough to know I needed them far more than I thought I’d ever need another person again.

It was scary, if I was being honest. But it was also too late to go back now.

“Well…that’s good,” Wolf finally said, clearing away my half-empty plate when I nodded. “Everybody needs somebody.”

“Even you?” I smirked.

“Even me, smart-arse.”

“Hm. Miracles do happen.”

Wolf rolled his eyes.

…

I slept late the next day, feeling sluggish. I didn’t feel _bad_ , necessarily, just kind of lazy. I hadn’t been able to afford lazy days on the run, so knowing I was safe to sleep in was nice. I stirred when I heard Eagle leave sometime in the morning, but fell back asleep after that. I finally woke fully to a racket in the kitchen, and hushed voices following that. It sounded like a distinctly Scottish admonishment.

“—he barely sleeps anyway, don’t bloody wake ‘im up—”

“—oh, and I suppose it’s _my_ fault that metal’s loud when it hits something, excuse me for inventing sound waves—”

Ah. Snake and Wolf.

“Too late, he’s up,” I heard Fox say from the armchair as I stretched, pleasantly surprised to find a minimal ache in my leg and side. I supposed I really was healing. “Morning, sunshine.”

“Morning,” I slurred dutifully, sitting up and rubbing my eyes, squinting against the sun splashed across the floor. “What time’s it?”

“Almost eleven.”

I blinked at him, feeling fuzzy as the words tried to enter my brain, but failed. No. It totally wasn’t eleven. I didn’t sleep that late. I searched for a clock and finally settled for pawing at my phone on the other side of the bed, staring at the numbers for a long time before I realized yeah, I _had_ slept until 10:54am.

That was some kind of record.

“Oh,” I said slowly, ignoring Fox’s laugh at my expression.

“Thought you were gonna sleep all day,” Wolf grunted from the kitchen. “Get in here and eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Son of a bitch, I’m gonna kill him,” Wolf muttered just loud enough for me to hear. “Well, you’re gonna eat before a strong breeze knocks you over. Get your arse in here.”

I thought about arguing, but I was experiencing something scarily akin to a sleep hangover, and it seemed like far too much effort. Sighing, I dragged myself out from under the blankets and rolled up the sleeves of Lion’s hoodie so I could function, padding into the kitchen and sinking into one of the chairs at the table.

“Did you go to the plus sized section for that thing?” Wolf asked, eyeing the ridiculously huge thing. I looked down. It definitely hung low on me, dipping past my hips and hanging on the ends of my shoulders over my t-shirt, and the bunched ends of the sleeves hung a couple inches past my fingers. It felt big and safe.

I didn’t like that I was small for my age, even though it was a definite advantage on agility and speed, but it made wearing big clothes nice. I’d rather die before I admitted it to anyone besides Tom, _especially_ Wolf, but still. “No. It’s Lion’s.”

Wolf blinked, and Snake laughed as he manned something on the stove, stirring dutifully under Wolf’s careful eye. “That’s kind of adorable.”

“Shut up,” I muttered, pushing bedraggled bangs out of my eyes. I didn’t care if it was eleven, it was far too early for their bullshit. “It’s comfortable.”

“Hm. Well, whatever. What do you want to eat?”

“What is there?”

“A shit-ton of Mexican food and some cereal,” Wolf answered with a piece of toast between his teeth, even as he scoured the fridge. “Maybe some milk.” He surfaced with the milk, sniffed it, and his face went even whiter than it already was. “Scratch that. No milk.”

I sighed. These guys were as bad as L-Unit.

“If you don’t mind, eat, then get dressed, because we desperately need normal human food,” Snake threw in my direction. I was glad he seemed to be doing better. I thought for a while there we were going to find him unconscious over his desk or something. “We’ll grab lunch somewhere if ye don’t want anythin’ here.”

“Whatever’s easiest,” I said, shrugging. I didn’t care.

Snake sighed. “We’ll eat out. Go get ready.”

I obeyed, still feeling slow, and took a shower. I ignored the mirror—I hadn’t really wanted to look at the scars on my side or leg yet, not until I knew I could handle the disfigurations—and got dressed, pulling on a long-sleeved tee and the heavy coat Tiger leant me until I could buy myself some real clothes. Since Tiger was smaller and stocky, it was a little wide, but it didn’t hang off me like the hoodie.

Snake and I left later, taking the car to a market a few miles away. We made small talk, easy conversation. I asked how his exam went, which was well, and he asked how I was settling in, and I said well. Snake didn’t make it awkward, at least.

I was on cart duty, pushing it along behind him as he walked, investigating the prices with surprising scrutiny. Soft Christmas music jangled from the ceiling as we passed plastic Christmas decorations, soft, colorful lights wound around the walls of the store and little trees dotting the open floor space. The chalkboard signs in the produce in bakery were drawn with red and green script and little decorations, and the employees were wearing Santa hats. Jack would’ve loved this store.

“Do you have any specific foods you want?” Snake asked, plucking a can of cranberries from the shelf.

I shrugged, habitually scanning the crowds for threats. I felt uncomfortable—I much preferred to hole up in the flat, but I also knew that if I let agoraphobia get the best of me, I’d become a hermit. Tom would lose his mind. I probably would, too.

“Oi. Cub.”

I glanced at him, feeling my shoulders tense abruptly as someone passed behind me with a muttered, “Excuse me,” and watched him until he wandered to the end of the aisle out of sight. I didn’t let my shoulders relax, shifting my leg to feel the reassuring weight of my knife against my ankle. There were three other people in the aisle—a lone woman and a man with who was obviously his daughter. Those two weren’t threats, but the woman was shifting—

“Ye alright?” He asked, trying painfully hard to hide his obvious concern.

I blinked and forced myself to look at him, then back at the woman, who was only shifting because of the heavy shopping basket on her arm, and her purse on the other. She looked completely harmless. I barely kept from scowling, uncomfortable with his concern, because I didn’t need it. I shouldn’t need it. “I’m fine.”

Snake hummed in acknowledgement, obviously unconvinced. “Alright. If ye need to go, we can. Don’t force yourself. I can come back later.”

I nodded absently, but I refused to leave. I could handle a trip to the damn grocery. I perused the shelf of canned foods as Snake searched for canned peaches. I plucked one off the shelf and handed it to him for him to inspect. He nodded in approval, and tossed it in the cart.

“So, truth for a truth,” he said after a few minutes of silence, meandering the produce section, inspecting a ripe tomato. “Wolf said you asked about our family. I’ll tell you about it if you tell me about something.”

I tensed, instantly on edge, because he was quite carefully and deliberately avoiding my eyes, trying to seem casual. “Depends.”

Snake finally looked at me, bagging a bunch of tomatoes and putting them in the cart. “Why aren’t you eating?”

Oh. I should’ve expected that from the medic.

I felt my shoulders slump as I shrugged. It wasn’t like I knew, either. “I’m just never hungry. It’s not like I’m not eating on purpose.” Snake looked at me for a long minute, and I felt myself get defensive the longer he stared. “Honeslty. I don’t have an eating disorder, or anything.” I wished I were hungry. Wolf’s cooking was awesome, and I could never bloody eat it.

His searching eyes were piercing, different from the levity I was used to, and he finally looked away. “Okay. I believe ye. We need to figure it out, though. Have ye noticed ye’ve lost a lot of weight since ye were hurt?”

I grit my teeth to keep from snapping at him in the middle of the store, feeling my knuckles go white as I gripped the cart’s handle. “Yes. I’m working on it.”

“No, you’re not. I’m not trying to be an arse, Cub, I’m just worried about you. I want to help, if ye’re comfortable with that.”

“I know. You don’t have to, though.”

Snake cast a dubious glance my way. “Okay, well, I _know_ ye’re not going to therapy for it, after last time. Have ye thought about seeing a nutritionist, or a dietician?” His voice was even, calm, and there was absolutely no hint of judgment, and for some reason, that just pissed me off more.

“No, and I don’t want one,” I said, letting the bite of harsh finality slip into the statement. “I don’t need help.”

I knew Snake was a kinder, meeker soul than most (barring his explosion a few days ago when Fox and I had our shouting match), and I really did like him, but he apparently didn’t know how to let things go. “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, Cub, it’s unbecoming.”

I scoffed, turning away. “What’s _your_ bullshit, then?”

Snake shrugged, casual and unconcerned. His voice was soft and even. “Take your pick, mate. I’m a host of unresolved issues that I like to ignore.”

I eyed him, feeling familiar suspicion creep in at his peaceful honesty, and said, “Truth for a truth, then?”

Snake glanced at me. “Want my story?”

“If it’s okay.”

“Sure. It’s not happy, but it doesn’t bother me, much. It’s long, though. Is that okay?” I nodded. He led me past produce and towards the bakery, telling his story as easily as if we were talking about the weather. “My mum was a prostitute, my da was one of her customers. Surprisingly enough, it was my mum who didn’t want me, and my da who did. My da wasn’t by any means an upstandin’ citizen, but he was there when I needed him.

“He died when I was twelve, crashed his car on some bender, and I went to an orphanage. It was fine, not the best, not the worst. Somebody adopted me when I was thirteen, and returned me in six months, so I stayed there awhile longer, made some good friends. I still keep in touch with some of them. When I was sixteen, another couple took a crack at it, and that was fine for a while. Still, I think they were the only couple in the whole world who didn’t want their kid—adopted or otherwise—to be a doctor, for reasons I’ve never understood. They brought me into the Catholic church, which I still really love, and I’ll always be grateful for that. But _then_ I came out as bi, and that didn’t go over well. They let me stay til I was eighteen, then kicked me out.”

I blanched a little, because he said it so casually. So easily. I didn’t think anyone deserved that, no matter how they identified. I thought about telling him that Tom was bi on instinct, but I didn’t want to out Tom. “I’m sorry,” I said instead, though it felt inadequate.

“Nah, it’s fine. We didn’t get on well in the first place, so their rejection really wasn’t very personal, at least to me. Still, I didn’t have a lot of savings, or possessions, so it put me in a bit of a bind. I worked my arse off and managed a partial scholarship to a community college in Carlisle, so I worked full time and did school part time, so my degree took a while. It was only cause of God that I managed it. I was flat broke, couldn’t find a job even with a pre-med degree, so I joined the SAS.”

“Why couldn’t you find a job?” I asked, absently eyeing the pastries we passed. Snake didn’t even ask my permission, just followed my gaze and plucked two boxes of pastries from the pile, ignoring my look.

“Economy was bad,” he said simply, still calm. Infuriatingly calm for such a turbulent childhood. “Plus I didn’t have any references or connections, barely enough money for rent, and not a lot to fall back on. I was a little too idealistic about starting out,” he admitted with a rueful smile in my direction.

“So I figured I could use my skills in the army as a medic, and joined the SAS. Selection was a bugger, and I’ll admit I was a little thrown off with you in the mix, but I met the guys. Wolf and I got to know each other quickly—we balance each other out. He lets me know when I’m letting people walk all over me, and I let him know when he’s being an arse.”

Snake’s eyes wandered, but even as he scanned prices, his gaze became far away, and he smiled a little. I kind of thought it was the most emotion he’d shown in his whole story. “After Selection was over—you left early, so this didn’t happen for you—we had family day. It’s where all the recruits who pass Selection have their families visit as a congratulations celebration.” I kind of remembered Family Day from joining as Matthew, but I’d spent all of it hiding out by the lake, so I didn’t know what went on.

“Eagle’s parents came, Fox’s parents and brother came, and a _lot_ of Wolf’s family came, but I knew I didn’t have anyone to call. I hid out most of the day until Wolf stomped in and dragged me out. Didn’t even say a word at first. When I asked what he was doing, he said, ‘My family’s too bloody big, so I have plenty to share.’”

I smiled at nothing even as Snake laughed at the memory. That sounded like something the Wolf I knew now would do, but I wouldn’t have expected it of him so soon after Brecon Beacons. “I’m glad he’s not so much of an arse now,” I admitted.

“Yeah, me too. I’ll never say he didn’t treat you horribly, because he did, but it wasn’t all his fault,” Snake said, finally letting a little bit of sorrow creep into his words. Figures it would be for someone else, and not for him. That seemed like Snake. “He joined the SAS because his cousin was KIA in Iran. Dropped out of school and started Selection just a few weeks after they were notified. They were really close—she was more like his sister than his cousin, really. Her name was Valeria.”

We continued walking like nothing had happened, and he talked a little more about how he’d hit it off with Wolf and Wolf’s family, and how they’d more or less demanded that he come home with Wolf on breaks, and that was how they’d gotten so close, but I wasn’t paying much attention anymore. Something ugly was squirming in my chest, and I was preoccupied.

I’d hated Wolf.

Of course, I didn’t now, now that I knew him and he was gruffly nice, roughly honest. Wolf was a much better man than the one I met in Brecon Beacons, and I’d more or less given him a blank slate when the guy had been shot saving me from Eva Stellenbosch. Still, there had always been the memory in the back of my mind of how shitty he’d made my life in that hellish camp.

How he took me at my lowest, when I’d just lost the last blood relative I had, someone I loved and admired and _needed_ , and pushed and taunted and belittled me. How he’d taken my awful situation and turned it into eleven days of watching my back, constantly waiting for the next taunt or threat. How he’d made me hate everything about my situation. I didn’t yet know that Yassen had shot Ian, and I didn’t yet know what horrible things Jones and Blunt would make me do, and I didn’t yet know that there were far, far worse monsters in the world than Wolf. I was young and naïve, and Wolf was there. I had so much hatred piled up, and so I’d _hated_ him.

Whatever glowing embers of that mindless hatred that still clung to life were quickly and completely extinguished, because I didn’t know that he’d been grieving, too.

It wasn’t an _excuse_. Of course, I knew that. I’d been grieving for the past two years straight, and I’d never let myself take it out on anyone else that directly or that horribly, and Wolf was older than me. Still, I’d mostly separated the two beings in my mind—the prick from Brecon Beacons, and the rough-around-the-edges maniac who cooked way too much food and transformed into a middle-aged mother without really realizing it. It had been easier to separate them, because I couldn’t really believe they were the same person.

Now that the two were reconciled, it was…I dunno, odd. Weird. I hadn’t been one to hold onto hatred before MI6, and after MI6, hatred seemed to be the only thing that kept me alive. Underneath the hatred was numbness that was far scarier—hatred gave my heart a reason to beat when nothing else did, so I held onto the hatred, even when I shouldn’t have, Wolf being an early example.

I couldn’t hate him after this, not even that part of him from Brecon Beacons.

“Cub? Ye with me?”

I blinked myself back into the present, focusing on Snake’s face. We’d made it to the meat and poultry section without my even noticing. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Ye don’t have to be sorry,” Snake said. “I know it was a little long-winded.”

“No, it’s not that,” I said quickly. I didn’t want to seem like Snake’s life story was boring, or anything. “That’s…uh…I was thinking about what you said about Wolf. I just…I didn’t know.”

“Oh. Well, nobody knew. He didn’t tell me until last year, around the year anniversary of her death, and I think that was only because he was drunk off his arse. I don’t even know if Eagle and Fox know, to be honest, so…keep it quiet?”

I nodded. “Of course.”

He gave me a smile, easy and calm. He looked nothing like a foster child who’d been passed around and rejected and evicted, who’d scraped himself off the pavement after each shove and worked towards his medical degree. Damn. Now I couldn’t be mad. That sucked.

We finished shopping, dropped off the food at the flat and left it for Wolf and Eagle to sort through, then went out to eat. Snake rejected Fox’s wish to come with—I figured he wanted to talk more about my not eating, which sucked.

Luckily, I’d healed enough to not need my crutch, so moving around was easier, even in the bitter cold. We parked in a garage and walked a few blocks through frost-bitten streets, and I scanned rooftops each time we crossed. I thought Snake might’ve noticed, but he didn’t say anything. Out of habit, I lingered just a little in front of a sports store window, checking out the sales on their footie gear.

“Want to go in?” Snake asked, his breath clouding in front of him as he shoved his gloved hands into his pockets, looking up at the store’s sign. _Sports Mania_. “Unless you want to eat now.”

I shrugged, feeling almost forlorn as I looked at the cleats and jerseys. “I don’t think I’ll have much time for sports in the near future.”

“Hobbies are good anyway,” Snake said, taking my elbow and more or less dragging me through the door despite my half-hearted protests. The blast of heat felt nice as he shook snow from our coats, hanging them on the complimentary rack by the door. I nodded at one of the standard greetings from the employee at the checkout aisle. “Plus, depending on the sport, it might be good rehab for your leg. We can look around.”

I scowled, but shrugged. I supposed it wouldn’t hurt.

“Oh,” I said in realization, scanning the aisles of sports paraphernalia, “this might be a good time to shop for Tom.”

“Tom, your friend? From L-Unit’s flat?”

“Yeah,” I said, unable to stop myself from grinning as I remembered the other three’s less than positive reactions. “You remember him?”

“Course I do,” Snake said absently, picking up a basketball and tossing it between his hands, paying me no mind. “He seemed nice. I’m glad you have a good friend like him.”

I blinked as he wandered away, feeling strangely deflated by the mundane reaction. I supposed of all of them, that would come from Snake, though.

I didn’t know why, but it felt strangely like I’d lost something, and it was frustrating.

 _Snake isn’t scared of you,_ I texted Tom disappointedly as I headed for the football section, half-heartedly eyeing a snooker table as I went.

My phone buzzed two minutes later. _thats fine 3 / 4 not bad plus snake seemed cool_

I smirked to myself. _He’s nice_.

_Oh thats good_

_Are you allergic to apostrophes? Or punctuation in general?_

_shut up! see im not allergic_

I smiled, sending him a peace sign emoji and putting my phone away, sighing as I scanned the shelves. Tom was almost as big of a footie geek as I used to be, so I couldn’t imagine him not having any of the standard gear. I found a keychain he might like, and a poster of his favorite team I didn’t remember from his room, which seemed like enough for today. I found Snake perusing the tennis section, and we checked out and dropped the bag off at the car.

“What do you want to eat?” Snake asked as we passed busy shops.

I squinted as the sun reflected off the snow and into my eyes, scanning the rooftops before we crossed the street. “Do you have any recommendations?”

“Mm, I like sushi,” Snake offered. “There’s a good place a couple blocks away. Yer leg okay?”

I nodded. “Sushi actually sounds kind of good,” I mumbled. I hadn’t had it in a long time.

Snake grinned. “Thank God for small miracles, then. Eat as much as you want.”

I smirked at Snake’s enthusiasm and followed him. The restaurant wasn’t far, perhaps ten minutes away, and was built with a black and red theme indoors. Polished wooden tables and seats dotted the center, and there was a small bonsai garden and fountain in one corner, by the bathrooms. I saw a couple hibachi stoves on one side, but they didn’t look like they were in use at the moment.

We sat, and I scanned the menu, sort of excited. I kind of loved sushi.

“I say this with all sincerity—order quite literally whatever ye want,” Snake said seriously over his menu, sipping on the tea they’d just brought out. “I don’t care what it costs.”

I smiled reluctantly, even though was worry was stifling. “I doubt I’ll burn a hole in your pocket, but thank you.”

He gave me a few minutes of silence to look over the menu before he started up with another conversation, but I didn’t mind. He did most of the talking, anyway. He told me a bit about medical school, and how it was kicking his arse, but he was excited to finally have his degree so he could explore more options for the future. He also told me about some of the friends he’d kept in touch with from his time in the orphanage, and they sounded like quite the characters. I was pleasantly surprised to find myself laughing a bit—after the slump of the last few days, the levity was nice.

I made my way steadily through miso soup and two sushi rolls before I felt completely full, almost sluggish. “I can’t eat anymore,” I complained as Snake continued to put away food like a starving animal.

“That’s fine. That must be some record for ye,” he said casually, stabbing into a ginger salad with a startling amount of gusto. “God, I love Japan. Their food’s _ace_.”

I smiled at Snake’s obvious delight. “Well, this place was good. I wouldn’t mind coming back here.” He smiled at that and continued to eat—I didn’t know where he put it all. He was actually really skinny.

I sipped on my tea and thought for a few minutes, about how alarmingly full I felt after what really wasn’t that much food. Of course it _worried_ me, but I was so worried about a million other things, it wasn’t high on my list of priorities.

Still…Snake was a doctor. Almost, anyways. And he seemed disproportionately concerned. Maybe, at least for my stay here, I could address it. The last thing I wanted was for L-Unit to notice how much weight I’d lost and freak out as soon as they got back.

“…I really don’t know why I can’t eat much,” I said quietly to fill the silence, tapping my fingers on the table, reminded of Jessie. I saw Snake abandon his salad in favor of looking at me, eyes calm and focused. “I used to eat a _lot_. Then I had…some other issues, and I didn’t eat much because I didn’t have much. Then…I just wasn’t hungry. I never felt like eating.”

Snake swallowed his food and nodded. I could see cogs turning in his brain, tipping his glass a bit onto its edge as he thought. “I have a couple ideas on what it might be. We can go over them later, though, somewhere more private. Are ye okay with that?”

I nodded. “Yeah.” I figured he’d dumped a lot of information, so the least I could do was hear out his concerns.

Snake smiled, pointing his fork at me. “Ye look better when ye smile, kiddo.”

His open eyes and steadfast expression as he said that made me laugh, light and airy. It wasn’t like the laughter I’d shared with Tom, the kind that was funny but hurt in deep, horrible ways. It was like helium in a balloon, like some of the sorrow was floating away as I chuckled at Snake’s words.

It was a good feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeeee. I lovelovelove Snake. And Wolf. And Eagle, bless his frantic little heart, he’s so scared. And FOX. We will see more of Fox next time :) but for now, Snake and Wolf are my babies and I love them. I hope you love them too hehe
> 
> So this is random, but if you guys could send prayers or good vibes or nice thoughts my way, I’d really appreciate it! I’m currently in the middle of applying to grad schools for Creative Writing, and I’m applying to some suuuuuuper competitive programs, and I’m haha scared. All thoughts appreciated. Thanks :D
> 
> THANKS I LOVE YOU ALL I’M TIRED BYE


	32. Chapter 32

“No,” I said as Fox held up a shirt, asking me if I thought Eagle would like it.

“You barely looked at it,” he grumbled, hanging it back on the rack.

“I saw enough to know he’d hate it.”

“How the hell do you know that? You can’t know he’d hate it.”

“ _Anyone_ would hate it, Fox. It’s orange and purple.”

Fox side-eyed me, but remained quiet, perusing the clearance racks. No wonder the thing was on sale. I wouldn’t pay for it with my bloody loose change. If Sabina had taught me anything, it was how to read a color wheel in the fashion industry. It definitely wasn’t by choice, either.

“Why’re you getting clothes for Eagle, anyways?” I asked, shifting from foot to foot as I looked around, keeping tabs on the other customers who got too close. I was, once again, on cart duty, following Fox through the supermarket as he shopped for presents. I was keeping an eye out for L-Unit and Jessie, but I already had some ideas for them.

“Because I suck at gift-giving,” Fox responded, eyeing a tan trench coat. “You’re welcome to come up with literally any other suggestion.”

“He runs a lot. Does he need new trainers?” I asked, tensing as a man brushed by me, but he was just passing by. “Or a nice bottle of scotch, or something? I dunno.”

Fox glanced at me, scowling. “Dammit. Two seconds, you’ve already got perfect ideas. I hate you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Shut it, bugger.”

Fox and I had finally gotten around to Christmas shopping in one of the malls by their flat, nearly busting at the seams with holiday shoppers. It was less than ideal—there was barely room to move without getting into another person’s space—but I was too afraid to do online shopping or delivery, just in case MI6 discovered my accounts or anything.

Which left me here, uncomfortable and on edge, steadfastly trying to warn Fox away from gifts I wouldn’t give a blind man.

Predictably, we made our way to the trainers section, and I mentally reviewed my shopping list. I was more or less done with Tom, and I’d gotten Jessie an MP3 player and some headphones. It was a little expensive, but I figured it was worth the splurge to make her happy. For Bear, I got some things for the youth center—some plastic musical instruments, some cheap sports equipment, and the like. Besides, he was already a borderline hoarder—he didn’t need more stuff.

Tiger had been a little harder, but I’d finally settled on a new coffee maker I found on sale, and a book he’d been wanting. Tiger often settled for instant coffee out of necessity and function, but he liked special blends and French press styles, which he couldn’t do with his current pot. I figured he’d like it. I hoped, anyways.

Lion was really difficult. He never asked for things, and he didn’t talk about himself much. I knew enough about him to have ideas, but I also knew I wanted to get him something meaningful. He’d just—he’d done so much for me. I felt like it would be a letdown to _not_ give him something meaningful.

Still, that was easier said than done. He played piano well, I knew, even though I’d never heard him play. He liked some retro stuff—I’d seen some records in his room, but no record player, so maybe I’d see if I could find one of those for cheap. Maybe a keyboard, or something. Or would he even have time for that?

“If you concentrate any harder you’re going to hurt yourself,” Fox quipped as he scanned the wall. “What’re you thinking about so hard?”

“I don’t know what to get for Lion,” I admitted as Fox put a box of trainers in the cart, balanced precariously on top of the coffee maker. “I have a couple ideas, but I don’t know if he’ll like any of them.”

“Hm,” Fox said. I was just relieved he didn’t make some asinine comment. “What are your ideas? I’m sure he’ll like whatever you get him.”

“That’s not the point,” I admitted, reeling myself in when I realized I was dangerously close to whining. “I want it to be something good. He’s done a lot for me.”

Fox eyed me, finally paying attention, and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Um…well, I dunno, mate. I barely know him. What are your ideas?”

I shrugged, absently rubbing my thigh where the shot wound was. It was almost healed, but the cold still made it ache when I moved around a lot, like today. “A keyboard, maybe. He says he likes piano, but I’ve never heard him play. He likes animals, and I might get him a record player. He has some records, but no player.”

“All good ideas,” Fox validated, dragging the cart with two fingers. I followed, my shoulders tensing as I moved by someone, but I froze when we got to the end of the aisle, where I collided with a woman I hadn’t seen coming around the end.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she stammered, hands on my shoulders to steady me. I flinched back, frozen where I stood, trying to remember to breathe. She didn’t notice. “You alright, love? Sorry, I’m so scattered, I—um, are you alright?”

Red hair.

She had red, red hair.

I didn’t even register her face, the brown eyes different from Jack’s, the birthmark under her eye, just the red hair. Curly and a little wild and loose, just like—

“Sorry, he spaces out sometimes,” I heard Fox’s voice, but it was muddling through a murky haze of fire fire fire— “It’s fine. Thanks. No, don’t worry about it, he’s fine.”

I felt myself being guided by Fox’s steady hands quickly to the back of the store we were in, passing through an “Employees Only” door, the cart abandoned just outside the door. I stared sightless at Fox’s chest, red and orange and firefirefire in my eyes and mind—

“Breathe, Alex. Breathe. Right now.” Fox’s voice was insistent but calm, even as his fingers dug into my shoulders. “Breathe with me, okay? Just—shit, kid, whoa—”

My knees sagged and he caught me under the arms, crouching until I could sit against the wall, my hand fisted in the front of his jacket in desperation. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t see, I couldn’t hear. In my nightmares I was always somewhere dark and cold, plagued by nightmares and memories of horrors, but now I was somewhere bright and hot. Nothing but fire and heat and terror and helplessness—

I choked on a gasp as pain flared in my chest, coughing as I breathed for what felt like the first time in hours, and I realized Fox had dragged his knuckles against my sternum in an effort to get me to wake up and breathe. Once I started, though, I couldn’t stop, wheezing in shaky, full breaths at a startling pace. My hand tightened in Fox’s jacket, a horrible spark of vulnerability I wanted to snuff out, but I couldn’t breathe.

“You’re alright,” Fox said quietly as I tried not to hyperventilate, my thoughts filled with fire and Jack and heat and light and fire and fire—

Fox, obviously realizing words weren’t going to work, knelt close to my side and more or less yanked me against him, fingers tangling in the hair on the back of my head as he wrapped his other arm around my shoulders. “Listen to me breathe,” Fox instructed, voice low. I heard another voice, high and nasally, and Fox said, “I know we’re not supposed to be back here, I’m sorry, I just needed a place to calm him down.”

The other voice said something else, but it seemed like Fox had more or less cut them out of the conversation. My fingers cramped from how tightly I held his coat, but I couldn’t calm down, because she had the same hair, the same body type, and for a blurred, illusionary second I thought it was her, I thought it was Jack—

“Calm down, Alex, or I have to call someone,” Fox instructed, moving a hand from my hair to the back of my neck, squeezing insistently. His voice was still calm, but there was an undertow of nervousness, and his hands were tense. “I know you don’t want me to call anyone, but if you don’t start breathing like a normal person, I have to, understand?”

I couldn’t, though. Breathing hurt. Breathing _hurt_.

“Snake? Yeah, I don’t—no, just listen, Alex is having a panic attack and I don’t know how to calm him down— _yes_ , I tried that, it’s like he can’t hear me at all—”

_Julius, please_ , I heard myself beg, a memory imprinted beyond removal on my fragile psyche, preserved in utter clarity even though I wished I could forget. _Please, I’ll do anything you want, please—_

 _Your friend’s life is in the hands of someone who hates you very much,_ I heard Razim echo, callous and cold. _What will you do?_

Nothing, because I was tied up cold and helpless as I watched the gleam in Julius Grief’s eye, the careful, reverent way he handled the detonator, the sickening grin on his face as he watched me beg and plead for Jack’s life. He knew, the whole time, he knew that he was going to press that button, that he was going to take her, but he still let me beg. He let me beg and hope that something human would make him stop, that _something_ would save her, but nothing did. I didn’t.

I knew, too. I knew somewhere cold and dark within myself that nothing I said or did would make a difference. No matter how I begged, no matter what I promised, Julius was going to kill Jack, and I would have to watch. I knew, but the child in me, the child who just didn’t want to be left alone, begged. Begged and begged and pleaded without reservation to my clone, but still, I watched myself kill her.

I heard myself scream within the memory, desperate and hopeless and _desperate_ , and I heard a crack, and my face hurt.

That wasn’t part of the memory.

I blinked, and Julius Grief was replaced with the dangerously blank mask of Ben Daniels.

I blinked again, raising a hand to my cheek. It hurt.

“I’m really sorry, I really didn’t want to slap you, but Snake said if nothing else was working it might shock you back,” Fox rambled, hand still tight around the back of my neck. There were two store employees off to the side, looking shellshocked by the whole thing, but I didn’t pay attention to them. I felt slow and dull, like I’d just woken up from a very long, deep sleep. “Alex? Say something so I know you’re okay.”

“Something,” I said quietly, still reeling from the memory. I hadn’t had a flashback that bad in a really long time.

I was almost glad he’d hit me. He’d shocked me out of it before the explosion, for what it was worth.

Fox huffed a laugh, sounding annoyed and relieved all at once, and closed his eyes for a second. “Scared the shit outta me, mate. If you’re making jokes, I guess you’re alright. Here, Snake wants to talk to you.”

Fox put the phone to my ear, but I was slow to grab it, still staring into space as fire crept out of my vision, revealing the dingy back storage space in the store. “Cub? Can ye hear me?”

“…yeah,” I said, fumbling for the phone with clumsy fingers. My other hand was still wound tight in Fox’s jacket. “Snake?”

“Hey, mate. Fox said ye had a panic attack.”

“…I think it was a flashback,” I admitted, too raw and open to censor my words. I was trembling like a leaf in a thunderstorm, and I was sure Fox noticed. “I—I’m sorry—”

“Oi,” Snake interrupted, his voice even. “Ye don’t have anything to apologize for. Everything’s alright. Ye’re breathing a little fast, lad, think we can slow it down?”

I listened to his quiet instructions and tried to breathe, but I was startled when Fox moved, I supposed to talk to the employees who were still hovering nearby. Still, I felt his jacket pull against my hand and automatically tightened my grip, glancing at him.

He looked back at me, a question in his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. Listen to Snake. Okay?” Relief flooded my limbs with lead, and I nodded, but I didn’t relax until he sat back down. “Listen, I know you’re not really one for physical stuff, but can I—um—”

Instead of continuing, he scooted close to me and wrapped his arm around my front, slowly so I could see what he was doing, and covered my ear with his hand, pulling my head to his shoulder in such a way that the phone was squashed between my ear and his jacket. His other hand settled on my back. “Just relax. You’re safe.”

Despite myself, despite the lingering panic, I did, sagging against him in a display of vulnerability I never, ever wanted to have again. I’d resigned myself to a life behind walls, but ever since L-unit, they were getting weaker and thinner and so much easier to tear down, and I didn’t know how to fix it. I didn’t know how to build them back up. I didn’t know if I could.

“How are ye feeling?” Snake asked, voice staticky. Fox’s idea actually turned out to be pretty smart—with his hand over my free ear, I couldn’t hear anything but Snake, and it was peaceful. It was a safe bubble. I shouldn’t need it, I didn’t want to need it, but it helped. I felt young and helpless, but it _helped_.

“Better,” I said quietly. “I—I think.”

“Good. Tell me about Tom, yeah? What does he like to do?”

The request was sudden, but I obeyed, feeling my eyes droop from the exhaustion and the fear of the flashback, and I slurred something about how good he was at football. How ridiculous he was about movies, how he’d all but memorized his favorites. I talked for a long time, until I wasn’t shaking any more, save some spastic twitches of dwindling adrenaline. The employees had long since evacuated, obviously realizing there was nothing they could do, and Fox was still kneeling on the cold concrete. I was sure he was uncomfortable.

“That’s great, Alex,” Snake said evenly. “Listen, let’s get ye back here, yeah? Ye sound tired.”

I was too exhausted to argue. “Okay.”

“Okay. Great. I’m gonna talk to Fox for a minute.”

Wordlessly, I handed Fox the phone, prying my fingers from his jacket, where they’d been tangled for God knows how long. They hurt. I flexed my hand as Fox sat up to talk to Snake, but he kept a hand on my back.

“Mm-hm. Yeah. Yeah, I’m gonna get him to the car then pay for the stuff, then we’ll be back. I don’t know if he’s going to want to eat—maybe, see if Wolf will make some. Yeah. Thanks, mate.”

Fox ended the call and stuffed the phone in his pocket, then sat beside me. I glanced at him questioningly.

“We’ll move when you’re ready,” Fox explained, getting comfortable against the wall. “Do you want to talk about it? You don’t have to.”

I didn’t. Not at all. “She looked like someone.” That was an easy enough explanation, I supposed.

“Someone who hurt you?” Fox asked, his shoulders tensing even as his face remained smooth.

I shook my head, fingers spasming in my lap as I thought of Julius Grief and Razim and Jack. Jack. She’d never had a label, but she was family anyway. She wasn’t a mother, she was more than a friend, she wasn’t a sister, but that was as close as I could get. She just…was, until she wasn’t.

“Someone who died,” I corrected.

Fox finally let sympathy creep into his indifferent mask, squeezing my shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

I nodded in acknowledgement, and remained quiet. Fox didn’t say anything else.

I wasn’t ready to move for a long time, but Fox didn’t say a word. For all the hellish noise, the cacophony and clamor of chaotic trauma in my mind, I’d always found solace in solitude, even if it hurt.

Still, the quiet with Fox wasn’t bad, either.

…

Fox let me sleep in his room when we got back to the flat.

I didn’t know if he intuitively knew I needed to be behind a shut door, or really and truly alone, but whatever it was, I couldn’t stand to be in the living room. It was too exposed, with too much open space and too many points of entry and exit. There was always the possibility of someone coming in or out, and I needed to feel alone to feel safe, right now.

Flashbacks were always hellishly exhausting, but I couldn’t sleep. Instead, I listened to the hushed voices in the living room, catching words here or there. It wasn’t all about me, but some of it was, and I felt bad for making trouble for them. Even after they’d let me stay here. I’d been looking forward to hanging out with Fox today, too, after we’d resolved some of our immediate issues.

I laid there for about an hour, feeling boneless and numb, before I finally made myself get up. I was thirsty, but the absolute last thing I wanted to do was brave the living room to get to the kitchen, so I slunk quietly to the bathroom and drank handfuls of water from the sink. I splashed some lukewarm water on my face, dragging my hands down until I had to look at my reflection.

I looked awful.

I was pale and thin, thinner than I’d realized, with dark smudges under my eyes like watercolor bruises. I’d put on Lion’s hoodie as soon as we were back, and it hung off me even more than it had when I’d gotten it. I finally made myself drag my gaze up to the eyes of the person in the mirror.

They were the same brown they’d always been, but I hated looking at them. Looking into my own eyes was like being forced to see what I’d become, really, really see, and I hated that person. I hated this person.

My vision whited out for a long minute, and I didn’t realize what was going on until I heard someone pounding on the bathroom door and I came to, kneeling on the floor, a bloody fist in my lap. Shards of reflective glass littered the floor around my knees, and I blinked down at my bloody knuckles, little slivers of glass embedded in the cuts. Blood trickled steadily down my fingers and onto my sweatpants.

“If you don’t open the bloody door in the next ten seconds, I’m gonna kick it down,” Wolf’s voice drifted through the closed door, angry and rough. Oh. I guessed they’d heard the glass break. I wondered how long they’d been pounding on the door.

I unlocked it without getting up, reaching for the lock with my good hand. I’d already broken their mirror, I didn’t want to be responsible for their broken door, as well. I grimaced as the door slammed into my thigh as Wolf shoved it open, blinking down at me. I didn’t look up.

“I’m really sorry,” I said instead, staring at the blood on my hand. “I’ll pay for the mirror.”

In my periphery, I saw Wolf look at me, then the mirror, and then me again. Fox brushed past Wolf and knelt beside me, asking what happened, but I didn’t look at him, either. Wolf didn’t say anything, just stared at me, and I waited for the yelling.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated.

Wolf opened his mouth, but he was interrupted by Snake. “If ye yell at him, I swear to my good Lord, I’m kicking ye out and ye’ll stay in a hotel tonight. Go away.”

Wolf blinked, then scowled, allowing himself to be moved from the doorway as Snake came to crouch beside Fox. “I wasn’t going to yell.”

“Ye can go to hell for lying,” Snake deadpanned, reaching out to take my wrist. I flinched away on instinct, and he stilled, eyes going instantly to my face. “I need to look at yer hand. I’m not going to hurt ye.”

Slowly, I nodded, and Fox moved around me to dig for a first-aid kit in the cabinet under the sink. “Wolf, go get a broom or something,” Fox said.

Wolf grumbled, but obeyed. I winced as Snake examined the bloodied knuckles and weeping wounds, hissing in sympathy. “Yikes, mate. Ye did a number on yerself.”

“I’m sorry.”

Snake sent me a look halfway between worried and exasperated, and took my upper arm, guiding me to stand. “Watch yer step. Let’s take care of this somewhere there isn’t broken glass everywhere, okay?”

“No, I’ll…I’ll clean it up,” I said quickly, trying to tug my arm out of his grip, reaching for the broom as Wolf returned. “I made the mess.”

“Let me handle this, dumbarse,” Wolf scowled, shoving me lightly in the direction of the living room. “God, you’re a bloody walking disaster. _Puta mierda._ ”

Well, he wasn’t wrong there. I felt a wry smile lift my lips at the comment.

I knew I was a disaster.

Snake took care of my hand quietly, and didn’t ask about the mirror, or the flashback from earlier, or anything. The silence was loud and stifling, but it was better than being asked questions. Fox shifted on the edge of my awareness, looking like his curiosity was quite literally killing him, but he didn’t ask anything, either. I heard Wolf cursing to himself as he picked up the broken mirror in the bathroom.

“I really will pay for it,” I said quietly, staring at the muted tellie as Snake wrapped gauze around my knuckles.

Snake glanced up and paused in his ministrations, searching my face. “I’m not worried about the mirror, I’m worried about _ye_.”

“Alex, it feels like since you got here, you’ve been going downhill,” Fox interjected, ignoring the dark look of warning Snake sent his way. “I know you miss your unit, but I don’t know how to fix that. Just…tell us what we can do to make this stay easier, alright? I know we’re not perfect, but…” Fox shrugged helplessly, emotion absent from his face but obvious in his words. “I don’t know how to help you,” he admitted, “and it’s killing me, kid.”

“ _Just…let me help you. I know I might not have earned it like L-Unit, and I’m glad you have them, but just…let me support you. Please.”_ Fox’s words from the cemetery rang in my head, and I felt guilt eat at my chest. I shrank a little under the knowledge that I was probably hurting him, too.

“It’s not your fault,” I said. “It’s really not. I just…” How could I explain? I’d tried to commit suicide less than a month ago, and then Lion and Tiger and Bear had to leave right after that, and I was placed somewhere unfamiliar and not safe. Even if it was safe now, I’d had to work hard to let myself recognize that, and it was exhausting. And now Christmas was coming up, and it was my first one without Jack, and everything reminded me of her. And when I thought of her, my thoughts inevitably turned to fire and ash and blood and red hair.

I also hadn’t forgotten that SCORPIA knew where I was staying, where _L-Unit_ was staying, and they could attack at any time. They had once before, how long would it be until they did it again? Then there was the looming threat of MI6, and the sobering knowledge that I couldn’t hide forever—eventually, they would find me, and I had no idea what I would do then. And there were the secrets, their unbearable weight, the knowledge that L-Unit trusted me with their stories and faults, and I didn’t even have the decency to return that.

Then there was K-Unit. I’d grown to trust them, to appreciate them, to want to keep them safe, but it was still difficult. I didn’t trust them like L-Unit, so completely and vulnerably, but I trusted them more than I wanted to, and the knowledge of more relationships and more dangers was staggering.

Then there was the not eating, the aversion to therapy that was going to bite me in the arse at some point, the flashbacks, the nightmares…I pulled myself out before I could continue to spiral, blinking slowly. I felt like lead.

“I’m just…really tired,” I admitted, wincing as Snake tied off the gauze with careful precision. I flexed my hand, the burn of the cuts and the sting of the antiseptic strangely comforting against the numbing depression. “And I feel bad. I’m ruining your Christmas.”

“Why do ye think that?” Snake asked, still calm. I didn’t know how he did it. Fox looked like his skin was crawling underneath his cool exterior. “I don’t think ye’re ruining our Christmas. I’ve enjoyed having ye here.”

“All I’ve done is cause trouble and break things,” I dissented. “Your birthday’s coming up, and Eagle’s trying to get ready to propose, and Wolf’s prepping for his own Christmas, and…I just feel bad.”

“Wolf!” Snake yelled back at the bathroom. I jumped at the unexpected shout. “Get your arse in here!”

“I’m cleaning the bloody bathroom!” Wolf complained, appearing in the living room with a dustpan in hand, shards haphazardly reflecting the room. “What?”

“Is Alex ruining our Christmas?” Snake asked point blank, so abruptly and confidently that my jaw dropped. Well, that was probably the most tactless question I’d ever heard Snake ask. Fox looked equally surprised by Snake’s brusqueness.

Wolf blinked. “What the hell? No. Christmas hasn’t even bloody happened, how the hell could he ruin it?”

“So he’s not ruining our leave time?”

“What—no. Is that all you bloody needed me for?”

“Yes, thank ye,” Snake said, waving a hand in Wolf’s direction and turning back to me. “Dismissed.”

If I hadn’t felt quite so awful, I might’ve laughed at Wolf’s affronted expression. I watched him scowl and run a hand through his hair, muttering, “ _Hijo da puta, por qué spongo esta mierda…_ ” Wolf’s Spanish rambling trailed off as he abandoned us for the bathroom.

“See? Wolf’s the most brutally honest person we both know,” Snake affirmed with an easy smile. “Ye’re not ruining anything by needing a little extra help.”

Fox nodded in agreement, dropping an arm around my shoulder as he stood beside me. He smiled down at me. “Nobody’s ruining anything. We’re here to help. Everybody needs some help sometimes.”

A memory tugged at my awareness, fuzzed over by time and injury, but I remembered. It was in the hospital, after I’d contracted sepsis, which felt like so long ago. _You need some help right now, just like we all do in time,_ Lion’s voice echoed, steady and strong.

I couldn’t help the smile despite the pang of worry in my chest. “Lion said that too.”

“Hm. Well, I guess even he has some bright ideas sometimes,” Fox conceded, looking away as pink dusted his face.

Snake smirked and looked at me with a conspiratorial smile. “Lion doesn’t like Fox either, does he?” I shook my head, remembering his translucent offense when I compared the two. “Do they realize they’re a bit more similar than they’d like to think?”

I laughed the slightest bit and didn’t miss the relieved light in Snake’s eyes, the way Fox’s hand tightened on my shoulder.

The laughter hurt. It hurt like it did when I’d laughed with Tom a few days ago. Had it only been a few days? Regardless, it was the similar feeling of deep, cutting pain, exacerbated by the laugh, because I didn’t feel like laughing at all. Not today, when I’d seen who I thought was Jack after so long.

Still, even the oppressive chasm of total darkness seemed brighter with a speck of light.

…

I had a nightmare that night.

It wasn’t surprising. I’d almost expected it—where bad days were, worse nights were sure to follow. Still, waking up on the floor beside Fox’s bed at arse-thirty in the morning wasn’t a pleasant experience.

I lay on the floor panting for a few seconds, throwing an arm over my eyes as I caught my breath. I was soaked in sweat, clammy and shaky, and the scratchy carpet wasn’t helping. I finally made myself get up and stumble to the bathroom, now free of glass, shattered mirror still hanging in a mockery of my brokenness.

I couldn’t handle my reflection right now, even disjointed as it was, so I left the light off and sat on the cool tile. I shut the door gently, afraid to wake Fox, who was in the living room, and scooted to lean against the side of the tub. I sighed contentedly as the coolness eased some of the fire-fueled adrenaline in my blood, pillowing my head on my arms, which rested on the lip of the bathtub.

“This sucks,” I whispered to no one, closing my eyes.

It did. It sucked a lot, and I couldn’t think of anything to do to make it better. Well, I could, but I couldn’t magically make Lion and Tiger and Bear come back any faster, so I’d just have to hope they came back soon. It would suck if they had to spend Christmas on a mission, but I couldn’t imagine they’d be stuck there that long.

I supposed I’d fallen asleep with my phone in my pocket, so I took it out and opened my contacts, scrolling through the admittedly meager supply. Lion, Tiger, Bear. Snake, Wolf, Eagle, Fox. Bella, Tom. Smithers, under Gadget. Probably not the best pseudonym, but it was fine for now.

It was four in the morning, barely, so I texted Tom. He probably wouldn’t be up, but it was around six there, so there was always the chance. _Morning_.

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t respond. Resigned to the solitude, I went online and read a few articles about the upcoming election and some celebrity news just to kill time. I felt myself cool gradually, until I was more or less shivering on the tile, but the cold kept me awake. I killed an hour and a half before Tom texted me back.

_what r u doing its like midnight over there_

I smiled a little, replying, _it’s 5:30 now_

_basically midnight_

_whyd u text so late everything good_

I thought for a moment, my thumbs hovering over the keypad. _It’s fine. Just miss you._

Tom replied with an emoji wearing a suspicious, scrutinizing look, but said, _hm. i dont believe u._

_but shucks im blushing miss u 2_

I felt my eyelids droop, by stubbornly kept them open, texting Tom back. _What’re you going to do today?_

I closed my eyes as I waited for him to reply, and I was almost asleep by the time my phone buzzed again with an excessive paragraph containing a rather detailed itinerary for his day. I felt myself smiling the more I read, Tom’s enthusiasm for even the smallest things contagious and warm.

I wouldn’t leave. I promised Tom, and I promised Lion. I wouldn’t leave.

They were enough to keep me here, even if it sucked.

A: _Sounds busy._

T: _u know me gotta get that bread_

A: _What_?

T: _oh poor uncultured boy dont worry ill catch u up on all the slang you missed_

A: _…I think I’m okay_

T: _this is not a democracy moron ur opinion is irrelevant_

A: _What kind of dictator can’t use punctuation?_

T: _a Gen Z dictator thats who_

I smiled and sent some vague reply before closing my eyes again, listening as birds started chirping outside the living room window. I could feel myself finally getting tired again, so I let myself drift off, even shivering. I thought of Tom, and L-Unit’s imminent return, and a place that might be home—that was enough to keep me warm.

A very flustered Eagle woke me a couple hours later when he came in to use the bathroom, nearly losing his mind when he saw me curled up against the tub, shivering. He ushered me quickly and forcefully into the living room and kicked Fox off the bed so I could warm up, but Fox wasn’t mad. In fact, he was just as worried as Eagle.

I insisted I was fine, that I’d just gotten hot and gone to cool off and fallen asleep, but Fox didn’t stop pestering me until I was buried in a couple blankets and Eagle was pressing a mug of hot chocolate into my hands like I was a six-year-old.

“Shut up and let us take care of you, moron,” Fox scolded when I said as much, flicking the side of my head as he yawned. “You woke me up, deal with the consequences.”

He plopped down beside me and turned on the tellie, stealing a corner of one of my blankets and flipping channels. I looked at him for a second and listened to Eagle move around in the kitchen, and I could faintly hear Wolf’s snores. I knew Snake was nearby too.

“Thanks for yesterday,” I said to Fox, eyes trained on the tellie. “For smacking me awake.”

Fox winced, and I hid a smile in my mug. “I really did feel bad, but nothing else was working. I promise I didn’t enjoy it.”

I laughed, quiet and low, and said, “I’m serious. You woke me up before the bad part. I’m glad you did.”

Fox cut his eyes to me, questioning, but he didn’t ask. He’d gotten better at not asking. It was easier. “I’m glad I could help, then.”

He sat up a little straighter, ruffling my hair with enough force to send me sideways for a moment, then focused staunchly back on the tellie.

Though I’d lived in the house in Chelsea for a long time, Ian and I had moved a lot when I was growing up, bouncing between countries. I’d learned not to get attached to places easily, so the Chelsea house had never really felt like home. I associated home with people instead of places.

That was dangerous, because people left and died. My home had been obliterated before my eyes when Jack died, and I was sure that I would wander homeless forever, literally and figuratively. The Sabina took me in, and it wasn’t home, but it was something better than the emptiness.

Then the emptiness was back, and it swallowed me.

I could still feel it. It was still present and vicious, tugging at my ankles and tripping me up every step of the way. It was an endless uphill battle out of compressed darkness that shoved me down again and again and again, and laughed each time I fell. The emptiness was so bad that I held onto hatred and fear and paranoia as tightly as I could to avoid that bottomless pit, but I still fell.

I hadn’t known that emptiness until Jack, but thinking on it, it felt like home wasn’t the absence of the emptiness, but having someone to pick me up when I fell.

I’d picked myself up too many times, and I couldn’t anymore. I was well and truly out of that strength.

I closed my eyes and let the steam from the hot chocolate warm my face and hands, letting myself sink into the blankets and bump my shoulder against Fox’s. I thought of Tom’s easy concern and K-Unit’s unique care.

I thought of Bear’s empathetic nature, Tiger’s honest concern, and Lion’s unconditional acceptance.

Home. What a nice word. It didn’t feel so strange anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? SEE? I broke it but I fixed it a little. Hehehehe. I feel evil in the best way.
> 
> This was kinda painful to write, but I also had a lot of fun with the abstract thoughts, because Alex’s darkness is a complex matrix. He has layers and layers of trauma, but instead of an onion, it’s like they’ve all been smashed into each other, so he’s drowning in them. Luckily he has some people who aren’t about to let that happen!
> 
> Hope you liked it as much as I did :)
> 
> As always, you’re all wonderful and I love you so much! Drop a review if you want, they make me happy :) Good night, and MERRY CHRISTMAS / HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESUS!


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not me, frantically writing a new chapter because I want nothing more than to publish the Christmas chapter on Christmas :P
> 
> Also, I really just want to share this because I think it’s hilarious. Remember when Tom left to go back to Italy? Um, approximately 60,000 words ago (I did the math)? Yeah, so, in the notes I have loosely detailing the rest of this story, of which I have three and a half pages single-spaced, with which I am not finished? Yeah. So, that’s this one sentence:
> 
> Hm ok so Tom leaves a bit more healing (maybe decorating his room? Hmmmm) then L-Unit is called in and he stays with K-Unit for a little while (he’s not happy about it) but it lets them bond a little (not nearly as much but enough) and then there’s CHRISTMAS and that’s going to be the marshmallow of flufftown.
> 
> That’s it. That’s what 60,000+ words looks like. That’s ALL. This story is about to be a million words good Lord. I’m excited though. Thanks for sharing this little thing with me hehe

The next day was a disaster. For once, though, it wasn’t my fault. Well, kind of, but not entirely.

“Matthew, can you pass me that box, love?” Evie requested from where she was perched on the top of the stepladder, precariously holding an armful of tinsel and three ornaments. Eagle had his hands tight on her hips, sweating bullets as she wobbled, looking completely unconcerned by the obvious precariousness of her situation.

“No, no, _no_ ,” Eagle said decisively, keeping one hand steady on her waist as he reached for the box in my hand. “Evie, baby, I can literally reach it without the ladder, please just let me do it—”

“Mason, I am going to decorate this tree if it’s the last thing I do,” Evie countered, somehow plucking the box from his hands. “My parents did ours without me because I had to work, so I’m taking over yours. The guys don’t mind, do they?” She looked expectantly at Wolf, Fox, and Snake, buried in varying degrees of Christmas around the living room and kitchen.

“I hate that tree,” Wolf said, waving a hand. “Knock yourself out.”

“Happy to let you do the grunt work,” Fox said, but the effect was kind of lost seeing as he was buried in wrapping paper. Snake smacked him for the comment.

“See? Nobody’s missing out on anything,” Evie said, laughing as Eagle scowled, still holding her tight as she tried to wrap the tinsel around the top of the tree. I went to the other side and stood on my toes to pull it around. “Thanks, sweetie. See, love, this is what being helpful looks like,” she threw at Eagle.

I laughed as Eagle flicked me off behind Evie’s back.

It was a nice day. An awesome day compared to yesterday, but a nice day by a mentally sound person’s standard. I’d dozed off on Fox’s shoulder for an hour or so after Eagle discovered me in the bathroom, only to be awoken when Evie busted in and demanded they drag the faux tree from the top of Snake’s closet so she could decorate. They’d obliged quickly, and the guys took it as an opportunity to get some wrapping done under her scrutiny.

Snake, under Wolf’s careful instruction, made a batch of Mexican hot chocolate. I’d more or less come to the conclusion that anything cooked in this flat, as long as Fox wasn’t anywhere near the stove, was immaculate. It was stupidly domestic, watching three more or less huge guys wrap presents while Evie the Elf (Fox’s moniker for her) and Eagle and I put up the tree while drinking hot chocolate. Still, I much preferred it to the crowded shopping malls.

“Sweetie, do you mind handing me that blue ornament?” Evie asked me, pointing to a box in one of the larger containers. “It should be—no, the one next to it—yes, that one!”

“You guys have a lot or ornaments,” I commented as I handed it to her, glancing at the others.

“Fox is stupidly sentimental for no reason at all,” Eagle contributed, ignoring Fox’s glare, “and Wolf gets one every year, and now Snake’s going to, as well. They piled up, I guess.”

“Hm,” I acknowledged, rifling through one of the boxes. A lot of them were simple glass-blown spheres with painted exteriors, but there were a couple that were airbrushed with careful detail, and some that were obviously mass produced, with quotes or characters.

I smiled a little, remembering one ornament Ian brought home for Christmas one year. It was a bit of an event, because he didn’t like ornaments or Christmas much—he wasn’t a very sentimental man. Still, he’d been away on business, and he’d brought back a really cool dreamcatcher ornament with his name, my name, and Jack’s name stenciled onto it. Jack loved it. I wished I’d kept it.

I wondered where it had ended up, in the estate sale. Something personal like that…I doubted anyone would take it, and the thought made me a little sad.

I was startled when the doorbell rang, and I looked expectantly at the others, but they were bogged down in their own duties. “Could you grab that? You’re the only one not drowning in Christmas,” Eagle requested.

I must have hesitated for a second too long, because Snake sent me a careful glance, but I got up anyway, wincing as my hand flared in pain. “Yeah.”

I picked my way carefully through the mess to the door, keeping my footsteps light and quiet as I approached. I put my eye to the peephole, careful not to put too much pressure on the door, and saw two women—they looked like they were talking amongst themselves, dressed heavily in winter coats and hats, carrying a couple wrapped bags and boxes.

“Were any of you expecting anyone?” I asked quietly as I poked my head around the wall, receiving several blank glances.

“Our family isn’t getting here until the 23rd,” Wolf offered. “Eagle, you said your parents were going to Evie’s.”

“They are,” Eagle affirmed, hands hovering around Evie’s waist as she carefully descended the ladder. I saw him breathe for the first time in an hour when she was finally back on solid ground. “I dunno who it is.”

“I suppose I’ll ask,” I muttered almost to myself. I figured it was a family coming to visit, and they’d gotten the wrong flat or something.

They knocked again as I got back, so I undid the deadbolt and chain and opened to door, wishing belatedly I’d grabbed my ankle knife first. “Can I help you?” I didn’t want to sound rude, but strangers were generally dangerous to me.

“Oh, hello! Goodness, you’re young.” I blinked. “Dear, did you get the address right…?” The older woman asked, turning to the younger woman. They looked remarkably similar—probably mother and daughter. They looked oddly familiar, too.

“This is what he said,” the younger woman said. I might have imagined it, but she looked a little uncomfortable, shuffling from foot to foot, keeping her eyes off both of her companions. “Maybe I misread—”

“Mum?” I heard Fox say behind me, and I turned to find him standing in the doorway, half out of the living room. His eyes were wide and his face was pale. His knuckles were white. “Ruth?”

“Benjamin, love, it’s been so long!” The older woman—I supposed his mother—said, brushing past me and into the flat. I got out of the way as quickly as I could, trying to put some space between us. Ruth—I supposed his sister—stayed in the doorway, looking at her brother with what I saw as apologetic eyes. “Goodness, you’ve grown again. Stop that, you’re tall enough.”

Ms. Daniels was quick to embrace him, but Fox looked distinctly ill, barely patting his mum’s back before pulling away. “Mum, what—what are you doing here? I told you I was staying here for Christmas.”

“I know, darling, that’s why we came to you,” she explained patiently. “Ruth, you’re letting all the air out! Come in, come in.”

I bit my tongue, but I kind of wanted to explain to her that it wasn’t her bloody flat, and she couldn’t invite people in as she pleased. Then again, it wasn’t my flat either, which was the only reason I didn’t say anything.

Ruth shook lingering snow off her boots and stepped inside, setting her coat on a hook by the door. I closed the door behind her and she crossed to Ben while Ms. Daniels went to the living room, exchanging greetings with the others.

“Ruth—” Fox began, his complexion nearly grey.

“I know, Ben, I’m so sorry,” she said, hugging her brother for a long minute. “She saw the address on my phone while I was getting ready to visit and insisted she surprise you. I tried to stop her—”

“No, Ruthy, it’s—it’s not your fault,” Ben said quietly, dragging a hand down his face. “I know how she is. I— _shit_ , I just wanted to…”

“I’ll see if I can get her to leave early,” Ruth promised, squeezing Ben’s arm before joining her mother in the living room. I felt bad kind of eavesdropping, but they were blocking the only other way into the main room, so I really couldn’t help but hear.

“Are you okay?” I asked quietly as Fox stepped closer to the door, probably trying to take a minute out of sight of the others in the living room.

“No, I’m not,” he admitted, glancing towards the main room. He looked furious. “I told my mother I didn’t want to spend holidays with her, not after what she did to Joseph. I made it crystal clear that I was going to need some time before I was okay being around her like that again, and she just…”

He dragged a hand down his face, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Sorry. I just…things are about to get really bad.”

I shrugged a little, feeling awkward and out of my element. “Well…maybe it’ll be fine. Maybe it’ll just be…you know, uncomfortable, and then over. I’m sorry she went against what you asked for, though.”

Fox smiled, rueful and wry. “You don’t know my mother, kid.”

I didn’t say anything, because he was right, but I knew I already didn’t like her. Anyone who could do that to their son obviously had some bigger issues to work through.

“Let me know if I can do anything,” I offered.

“Kill me,” he muttered, taking a deep breath.

I blinked, tilting my head in consideration. “Well—”

“Oh, shut up.”

I smiled a little and followed him back into the living room, where the others had stood. Their stances were relaxed enough, but I knew how to read blank faces. Snake’s face was lined in subtle worry, Eagle was a little more fidgety than normal, and Wolf—well, Wolf wasn’t doing to very good job of hiding his obvious displeasure.

“Can I offer ye some hot chocolate?” Snake said as we walked in, trying to diffuse the tension with an amiable smile. “It’s got a bit of a kick to it, but it’s good. It’s a Mexican recipe.”

“Goodness, no. If I’d wanted an international tour, I would’ve gone to one of those dirty little places down the street,” she said, stripping off her gloves and handing them to her daughter.

Ruth scowled while the rest of us stood there with our jaws hanging open.

“I’d love a cup, thank you so much, Kyle,” Ruth cut in, sending her mother a scathing glance. “I’m sorry, my mum forgot her tact at home. I suppose it’s next to her sense of human decency in a dusty little corner.”

Snake blinked while Evie sent Ruth a thumbs up. “Uh…of course. Just one second.”

Wolf looked two inches from bodily tossing her out the window.

“Ruth, don’t be dramatic, it’s unbecoming,” Ms. Daniels said, looking completely unbothered. “Goodness, is there anywhere to sit in this place? Benjamin, if I’d known you were living somewhere like _this_ , I would’ve arranged for a flat in the city.”

Fox’s jaw locked, and he ground out, “I don’t want your money. I’m happy where I am.”

“Oh, dear, that’s you getting used to poverty.” She clucked her tongue, moving to sit on the couch. “First your sister, now you? Settling for one of these old places? Never thought I’d see the day. I’ve failed as a mother.”

I saw Fox’s shoulders tense, and I saw Ruth’s face smooth in familiar blankness. Snake smartly pulled Wolf into the kitchen before he could aggravate the situation, handing Ruth her mug of hot chocolate. To be honest, though, I was more worried about Evie than Wolf, if the way Eagle was holding firm to her shoulders was anything to go by.

“Well, don’t just stand around, sit, sit,” she commanded, once again under the illusion that she owned this flat. “Tell me what I’ve been missing. You boys must be happy to be on leave, yes?”

Awkwardly, slowly, Eagle, Fox, and Ruth sat. Snake was still detaining Wolf in the kitchen, probably for all our safeties. Evie went back to the tree and completely ignored Ms. Daniels, so I went to help her. I preferred having something to do with my hands.

I listened idly to the conversation, which was more or less Eagle and Fox hesitantly describing some of their escapades. Ruth was nice, I decided, and she looked mortified every time her mother made some scathing comment. Ben didn’t look much better. He had his head in at least one hand most of the time, looking miserable.

Everyone noticed. Everyone saw that Ben would rather be anywhere else. Unfortunately, everyone included his mother.

“Oh, sit up, Benjamin. If you’re going to be a child, go to your room until you can act otherwise,” she said with a disdainful glance.

I thought Evie was going to deck her.

“Did you need something?” I cut in before I really knew what I was doing, leaning against the wall. Cool eyes slid to me, but I stared back. I’d faced monsters in human flesh. She was nothing. “Because I really don’t remember anyone inviting you.”

Evie snorted.

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” she said with a cool smile.

“Well, that might be because you more or less steamrolled me in the foyer after no one invited you in.”

Fox choked on his water, hacking up a lung as Ruth pounded his back.

Still, Ms. Daniels remained calm, a hint of a steel smile on her face. “Violet Daniels-LaRue, dear. And you are?”

“Matthew.”

“Oh, how lovely. Did your parents name you after the gospel writer?”

I had nothing against religion. Lion was one of my favorite people, and he was very religious. I didn’t understand it, and I supposed I identified as Agnostic, but I thought it was kind of beautiful to have so much faith in something. Maybe one day, I’d ask Lion to tell me more about it, when I was in a better place.

Still, I supposed I knew the type of person Violet Daniels seemed to be, so I took the liberty of making some assumptions about her opinions and vowed to make her as uncomfortable as mortally possible. “No. I’m named after my uncle. He was a male stripper.”

Evie burst out laughing.

Violet Daniels-LaRue went very still for a long moment as I held her gaze, waiting for a reply, but she seemed like a fish out of water. I detected distinct disgust in her eyes and the curl of her lip as she sent frosty eyes down my frame. I cocked my head. “What’s wrong? You’ve had some underhanded comment for everyone else. Did I startle you?”

“A—uh… _Matthew_ …” Fox whispered, glancing nervously at his mother. “Mate, it’s—uh—”

“It seems you’ve found some unsavory company, Benjamin,” Ms. Daniels said with a scrutinizing glare. “Dear, if you want my honest opinion, I’d be happy to give it.”

“Actually, I didn’t ask for it, just pointed out that for once, you managed to keep your mouth shut,” I corrected, casually hanging another ornament on the tree. “Don’t misunderstand, though. I don’t have time to worry about the opinions of people like you.”

She smiled, cold and brittle. “Pray tell, what do you mean by people like me?”

I slid my eyes to her. I’d stared down rapists and terrorists and killers and monsters, and I let just a bit of that side of myself bleed into my gaze, watching her eyes widen the slightest bit. “Are you asking for my honest opinion? I’d be happy to give it.”

“ _Okay_ ,” Snake said with a forced smile as he bustled quickly into the living room, setting a hastily-made vegetable tray on the middle table. “Looks like we’re all gettin’ along splendid. Ms. Daniels, that’s a lovely coat, where’d you get it?”

I stared her down, frost in her eyes, until she looked towards Snake. She seemed like an impressive woman who was used to getting her way, and it wasn’t hard to guess that she came from money and status and enough bias to fuel a country for a year. I could tell immediately that the right company and the right dress meant more to her than the right relationships or the right communication, and I had no trouble believing that she’d disowned one of her sons after he made a few mistakes.

Evie nudged me, and I glanced down at her, finally letting my shoulders relax.

“I am adopting you,” she whispered with a proud pat on my shoulder. “Effective immediately.”

I snorted, handing her another ornament. “Thanks.”

Evie and I continued to decorate the tree as Snake tried to keep the conversation peaceful. It seemed he and Ruth had come to some silent agreement to reroute the conversation every time it looked like it was getting dangerous, and Eagle jumped in where he could. Fox sat by his sister, hands in his lap, looking awful.

Wolf stayed wisely in the kitchen.

We finished the tree, finally, and Evie high-fived me as we gazed at our accomplishment. “Mason, come put the star on,” Evie requested, handing the crystal star to Eagle, who jumped on the chance to leave the conversation.

“Looks great,” Fox said, smiling a little as Eagle situated it in position. It seemed like the first genuine thing Fox had said since his mother arrived.

“Dear, it’s a plastic heap of needles,” his mother cut in, lowering her volume enough to pass as a side comment, but loud enough to be clearly heard. “Don’t be so impressed by every little thing.”

“I think it looks great,” Snake said. I could tell even his infinite patience was wearing thin. “It was a last-minute thing, too, but I’m glad we did it.”

“Fox, Snake,” Wolf called from the kitchen. “Get in here and help me with something.”

Fox quite literally leapt from the couch in a hasty escape.

“Actually, I should get going too,” Evie said, picking up her purse from one of the armchairs. “I have work in an hour. Mason, walk me down?”

“Sure,” Eagle said, glancing at Ruth and Ms. Daniels. “Nice to meet you, Ruth.”

Eagle put his arm around Evie and walked out. Nice, Eagle. I approved.

Ms. Daniels shifted. “What an impolite bunch. I can’t believe Benjamin can stand to live like this.”

“Mum, please,” Ruth said quietly. “You’re being awful.”

“Well, excuse me for speaking my mind, darling!”

“You’re not excused,” I muttered, packing away the excess wrapping paper and ornament boxes back into the larger containers.

“What was that? It’s not polite to mutter.” She paused, sighing. “Though I suppose I can’t fault you, since I doubt anyone ever taught you better. Poor dear. Joseph never got the hang of etiquette, either. You remind me of him, a bit—same _attitude_. Never could train him out of it. Well, I suppose the problem’s gone now.”

Ruth gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth. Her eyes shone. I heard someone in the kitchen swear, and I heard Eagle try to talk Evie down as she prepared to storm back in.

Something snapped.

“Would you still like my honest opinion, ma’am?” I asked politely. She opened her mouth, and I continued, “Lovely, then buckle up. I think you’re a stuck-up, haughty bitch with no concern or empathy for the people around you. I think you think in dollar signs and connections instead of with any shred of parental concern, and I think your status is more important to you than your children. I also think you’re absolutely right—you _did_ fail as a mother, but somehow your kids worked with your shitty parenting and did well for themselves, anyway. And hey, maybe I have no authority on it since I haven’t known you long, but first impressions are powerful. One day you’re going to realize that status and zeroes don’t run the world quite as much as you think they do.

“One day, you’re going to be old and decrepit, and no amount of money will be able to make you beautiful again, or important in whatever high society you come from, and no amount of status will save you from sickness and eventual death. Unfortunately, it seems no one’s told you you’re mortal like the rest of us yet, but I’ll happily take the honor. One day, you’re going to look around you, and you’re going to be alone. And when it really matters, no amount of money or status is going to buy back loved ones you’ve estranged, friends you’ve insulted and ruined, or even acquaintances who once had pity on you. You’ve already lost one son, and you’re well on your way to losing another, because you refuse to see what your actions and words do to the people around you. Take it from someone who’s been alone—it’s hard to fix and it sucks. Difference was, it wasn’t my fault. I don’t think you’ll be able to say the same.

“Oh, and I also think you’re a manner-less shit for explicitly going against your son’s wishes and ambushing him like this. When someone makes their wishes clear, it’s a sign of trust that you’re expected to follow them. I don’t give a single damn if you thought you were going to have a heartfelt reunion or fix things, you went against his wishes, and you’ve taken a rift and chipped away whatever meager bridge Ben gave you.

“You know, while I’m on a roll, I’ll vent a little, too. I also think you’re heartless and cold for kicking your son out because he made a few mistakes. Oh, no, I’m not done—you’ve interrupted plenty of people today, I think I can take my turn now. I don’t give a single shit what Joseph did or didn’t do, and I don’t care if it was part of your plan for your kids or not. You’re a parent, and it’s your job to guide your kids when they mess up. Every kid messes up. From what I heard, when _your_ kid messed up, you washed your hands of him and let him fall into his own depression. And then—and this is the really good part, Violet—instead of realizing what you’d done and promising to do better with the other two kids you have, you called Ben and told him to plan his little brother’s funeral.

“Do you even realize how fucked up that is? Continuing my opinion, I think you thought you were upholding your rigid moral code and doing the right thing. I think hat as soon as Joseph no longer fit your mold, he was useless to you anyways. I think you thought you were being strong and righteous, but news flash. That was the weakest, most selfish, arrogant thing you could’ve done, and from what I see, you have no guilt whatsoever. That’s bordering on sociopathic, ma’am, and I should know. So in conclusion, I think you’re a spineless, worthless creature with absolutely no human empathy or humanity, and one day when you die alone and afraid, it’s going to be well-deserved. You reap what you sow, and you’ll have one hell of a harvest by the time you die.”

I delivered the speech calmly and coolly, maintaining eye contact with my shoulders set, and at the end, there was silence. There was not one single peep of noise coming from the kitchen or the foyer, where Evie and Eagle were still standing by the door, nor from the couch. Violet Daniels-LaRue was staring at me with something between hatred, disgust, and the telltale fear of a human confronted with mortality. Ruth wasn’t breathing.

“But, like I said, that’s just my opinion,” I said, waving a hand in her general direction. I picked my way through the boxes in her direction and stopped beside her.

It was nothing like Lion’s father, but I had a feeling Fox had suffered abuse, too, of a different kind. It was hard to imagine living with this woman for eighteen years and retaining any shred of self-worth. I assumed some form of emotional abuse had transpired, and it made my blood boil. I felt the same rage I felt when I looked at Lion’s worthless father, but I’d been able to take it out physically on him. If I did it on this small woman, I’d do irreparable damage.

That didn’t mean I couldn’t show her who I was without physical force.

I looked down at her, and I smiled. I felt someone I hated seeping through, someone the mirror never showed—the spy, the one who came out on missions and stood up to terrorists and psychotic masterminds—but I supposed this was a special occasion. The smile was razor sharp and full of ice shards and cold fury, and I could feel the hint of blood in my eyes. Maybe it was overkill for a mother who just didn’t know her place, but Fox was miserable.

He was kind of rude sometimes, and he didn’t really understand personal space, and he did and said some things I didn’t like. But he was also one of the strongest people I knew, one of the most loyal, one of the kindest, in his own unique way. He was a little loud, kind of funny, a bit of a jokester and a lot of a pain in the arse. He commanded attention in a room in his movements and words. Ben was all of these things and more.

His mother had taken five minutes to reduce him to a quiet, resigned man who looked like he was physical pain.

 _I know how she is. I—shit, I just wanted to…_ Fox had trailed off before, but I could imagine what he wanted to say. _I just wanted to spend a holiday not worrying about the bitch who drove my little brother to suicide._

She’d driven one son to suicide, and Fox was too important to me for her to push him anywhere near that point.

“I don’t like people who hurt the people I care about,” I said, staring down my nose at her as she sat, frozen. Her lips were parted slightly, her skin was milky white, and her eyes held nothing but awed fear. “And I don’t have money or status, but I’m not someone to mess with. Why don’t you use your money to do a public service for a change and book yourself a flight home? The sooner the better.”

I stood over her for a few seconds longer, rolling my shoulders back. I clenched my injured hand, letting the pain ease me back into myself, and looked away from her. “I’m going out. Don’t be here when I get back.”

I didn’t wait for a response. I eased past a frozen Evie and Eagle, slipping into my trainers and grabbing my coat from the rack.

“Holy shit,” Eagle breathed. “Cub—”

“Not right now.” I shut the door on him and jogged down the staircase and out into the freezing snow, turning up my collar and shoving my hands into my pockets.

I probably should’ve grabbed more layers, but hopefully the chill would cool me off a little. I felt hot adrenaline buzzing in my fingertips, begging for an outlet, but I couldn’t give it one. Unless, of course, I wanted to use Ms. Daniels as my outlet, which didn’t seem like the brightest idea.

I wasn’t dressed for it, and I doubted I’d healed enough for it, but I started jogging. I needed some outlet for the buzz. I watched my breath cloud in front of me as my lungs adjusted to the familiar burn, exacerbated by the stinging cold, and ran. My thigh started hurting a few minutes in, but I ignored it and kept going.

I supposed I might’ve overdone it. I didn’t feel guilty for anything I’d said, but I felt guilty for stepping in when Fox might not have wanted me to. I couldn’t imagine I’d done anything to improve their relationship. Still, I couldn’t handle the things she was saying. I’d lost enough loved ones to know how horrible it was, how crushing and devastating and obliterating, yet she viewed it as _taking care of a problem_?

I sped up, gritting my teeth against the burn, and turned a corner, barely keeping my balance as I hit a patch of ice. _Shit_. I couldn’t believe her. It sucked, because I knew monsters were real, I knew they existed in the people I’d faced and in Lion’s father and the heads of MI6, but Fox’s mother was a different kind of monster—I was willing to bet she had absolutely no idea how much she hurt the people around her.

After twenty minutes, the ache in my leg finally became painful enough that I slowed to a walk, freezing sweat on my brow and back. I looked around to find myself on the edge of a shopping district, still bursting with life and last-minute shoppers—four days until Christmas. I wondered where I’d be spending it. L-Unit had to leave before we could really work out the details, so I didn’t know if family was coming in, or they were leaving, or both.

I figured they wouldn’t leave me alone. I felt niggling doubt in the back of my mind, but I tried to squish it down. I trusted them not to leave me alone on Christmas—I just didn’t know where I’d be. Well, as long as I had one of them, I’d be alright.

I still needed a present for Lion, so I ducked into one of the shops and grabbed a coffee from the café inside, then perused the shelves. It was some kind of clothing store, and I really doubted I’d find much for him here, but it was a nice way to warm up and kill time. It was mostly empty, too, so I didn’t have to worry about avoiding a lot of people.

I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and took it out, seeing an incoming call from Snake. I answered. “Hello?”

“Where are ye?” He asked first, which was typical of him. “Are ye safe?”

“I’m safe. I’m in a shop down around Station and Beech Road,” I said, peeking out the front windows for the street signs at the intersection. “I’ll be back soon. Is she gone?”

“Mate, she couldn’t leave fast enough,” Snake admitted, a hint of something in his voice. Maybe pride, maybe surprise, maybe both. “Fox didn’t even see her off, which she wasn’t happy about, but she’s gone. On her way back to the London airport. She was vocal about it, too, I tell ye.”

“Is Ruth still there?”

“Yeah, she and Fox are talking in his room.”

“That’s fine. She was nice.”

Snake scoffed. “Ye’re ridiculous, mate. I never would’ve guessed ye had that kinda fire in ye. Ye’re so quiet.”

I paused, leaning against one of the aisles and closing my eyes, suddenly really tired. “I don’t like people like her. Is Fox mad at me?”

There was a long pause. “Of course not. Why would ye think that?”

I shrugged, even though I knew he couldn’t see me, and suppressed a full-body shiver. I really should’ve dressed warmer. “I stepped in without his permission. I can’t imagine I did anything to really improve their relationship.”

“No, Alex, he’s not mad. If anything, I think he’s grateful,” Snake corrected gently. “He was so relieved when she got ready to leave.”

I nodded to myself, a bit of satisfaction in my gut, but it was quickly overtaken by a wave of fear. “Is Ruth okay?”

“She’s happy now that her mum’s gone, I reckon,” Snake said quietly. “She was a little surprised, I think. Hell, mate, I think we were all a little surprised.”

Yeah. That’s what I was worried about.

“I’ll be back soon,” I said quietly. I’d give them some space before I went back.

“Nah, Wolf’s on his way to get you.”

I felt my eyes widen, irrational fear in my stomach. “N-No, he really doesn’t have to do that—”

“He wouldn’t take no for an answer, lad,” Snake said, careful suspicion in his tone. “What’s goin’ on?”

I felt familiar apprehension in my blood. I didn’t want to face any of them this soon. “Nothing. I’ll wait here. Thanks.” I hung up the phone before he could argue.

The cashier gave me a look somewhere between questioning and concerned, but I went to the back of the store, trying to find some solitude before Wolf got here. Shit, he was gonna be mad. I didn’t want to face him. Any of them, really.

Familiar panic ate its way through me, the kind of panic I felt after Bear watched me subdue and threaten Lion’s father, when Jonah was crying. The kind of panic that ate its way out from my heart and to my fingers and toes and brain, consuming and inescapable. I wondered if I’d scared them. I’d felt myself get dark, recess to the person I was in the midst of missions and homeless camps—someone cold. Someone cruel. Not the broken person in the mirror, but the person in my mind who lived and fed off of my trauma.

The spy MI6 wanted, the operative SCORPIA had tried to create from me.

I wondered if I’d scared them.

My phone buzzed, and I waited a minute before I took it out. It was from Wolf.

_Where the bloody hell are you there’s thirty shops on this street_

I sent him my location and tossed my coffee cup in the rubbish by the door, then went to wait on the icy sidewalk so he could see me. A couple minutes later, Wolf’s car pulled up to the curb and I got in, pausing to check the rooftops across the street. I brushed snowflakes from my hair and put my seatbelt on, but he was already driving.

“Thanks for getting me,” I offered when he didn’t say anything, but he just nodded.

Well. Awkward silence wasn’t something I was unfamiliar with, but I didn’t like it.

It was a couple more minutes before Wolf finally spoke. “What the bloody hell is wrong with you?”

Ah. There it was. I felt myself cringe a little, the fire from earlier having been snuffed out by the run and the ice and the fear, and shrugged. “I didn’t like what she was saying.” It was true, but it seemed like a weak defense after my surprising eloquence from earlier. I supposed Ian had rubbed off on me more than I really realized.

Wolf cut his eyes to me. “No, dumbarse. You verbally destroyed her, and you look like someone just kicked your dog.”

I turned to look at him, caught off guard, and blinked in surprise. “What?”

“If I’d gotten that honor, I’d be fucking celebrating,” Wolf clarified, scowling all the while. God, he _really_ needed to sync his facial expressions to his emotions. “Yet here you sit, huddled up in some pathetic little ball of…not celebration.”

“That was eloquent,” I deadpanned.

“Save it, _tonto_. What’s wrong with you?”

Wolf was not comforting. He wasn’t one to give assurance or empty words. Fox was kind of brusque about it, but I knew he meant well with his words. Eagle said a lot without saying much at all, but I knew he was always looking for ways to reassure others. Snake was a saint with infinite patience and an entire book of honest and kind reassurances to make any situation seem not quite so bad.

Wolf had none of that. He had brutal honesty and clinical scrutiny.

Maybe that was why I could be honest.

“On missions…I can’t just be…you know, a kid,” I admitted, putting my throbbing knuckles against the cold window. “I have to be someone a lot worse. Someone I don’t like.” Someone that scared me. “It gets kind of…intense…and sometimes it’s…hard to pull myself out of it.”

Wolf was silent, scowling steadily, but he didn’t say anything. I shrugged a little, feeling obligated to continue, and said, “I was afraid I’d scare you guys.”

Wolf reacted to that.

He raised an incredulous eyebrow and turned his head in my direction, completely honest surprise in his eyes. “You thought you’d scare us.”

I shrugged, fidgeting under his gaze. “Um…yeah.”

Wolf laughed.

Genuinely laughed.

I’d heard him chuckle, seen him smile, but I’d never heard him full-on _cackle_ like he was now. I stared at him, feeling heat flame in my cheeks as he laughed at me, torn between being pissed off and laughing with him, because it was surprisingly infectious. “Why’re you laughing at me?”

Wolf stopped long enough to catch his breath, nearly wrecking the freaking car as he made the next turn. “You—you’re thirty fucking years too early if you think a pipsqueak like you is going to scare me, _chico_ ,” he chuckled, sounding honestly like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “And if you think you scared my unit, then I’m going to need a new one. No, Cub, you didn’t _scare_ us. I’m thinking of throwing you a bloody party.”

Something warm cracked through the ice in my chest, because Wolf didn’t care about meaningless reassurance. He didn’t care about lying to spare someone’s feelings.

“Good,” I said quietly, smiling a little. “That’s…that’s good.”

“Yeah, it’s good. _Mierda_ , Cub, you were bloody brilliant back there. I didn’t know you had that in you.”

“That’s what Snake said.”

“Well, he was right. It was brutal and exactly what that bloody bitch deserved. Good riddance. I probably would’ve hit her if she’d stayed any longer.”

“I thought about it,” I admitted.

“Why do you think Snake dragged me into the kitchen when things got tense?”

I hummed in acknowledgement as we pulled into the garage. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Well, you ran off on your bloody shot leg, so I figured someone had to come rescue you.”

I rolled my eyes. “I would’ve been fine.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Fox and Ruth were still in Fox’s room when we got back. Eagle was wrapping presents again, so Snake fussed over me for a minute until I assured him that I was fine, then sent me into the living room. He followed me in a second later with a cup of coffee. “How’s yer leg?”

“It’s really fine,” I promised. “It aches, but I think it’s more from the cold. How’s Fox?”

Snake glanced back towards the bedrooms, eyes tight. “Shaken. He’ll be alright, though.”

I hesitated, then nodded. I wasn’t completely satisfied with Snake’s judgment, but I knew he wouldn’t lie about that, so I took it for now.

“James, _Tia Adelita_ just called, so I said ye’d call her back when ye got here,” Snake shouted to Wolf.

“I think if you were a couple years older, Evie would leave me for you,” Eagle deadpanned when I was settled, earning a blank glance and a laugh from Snake. “Seriously. I haven’t seen her so awestruck since I took her to Disneyland in France.”

I felt myself blushing spectacularly, a little uncomfortable. “Um—”

“He’s messing with ye, don’t worry,” Snake said, ruffling my hair.

I hummed in acknowledgement and sipped on the coffee, glancing at the tree. It did actually look really good. I was glad I’d gotten to decorate. Maybe I could get a tree for L-Unit’s flat, if they didn’t have one already, and decorate when they got home. Might be a nice surprise.

My phone buzzed in my pocket—someone was calling me. I took it out, expecting Tom, but saw an unknown number.

Cold fear settled in my stomach.

“Cub?” Eagle said, sounding suddenly worried. I felt the blood drain from my face all the way to me feet, and my hand shook. “What? Who is it?”

“I don’t know,” I said quietly. I didn’t know. I didn’t know who it was. Was it—was it MI6? Was it SCORPIA? Was it someone else who’d found me? Was it a wrong number?

I answered it before I could talk myself out of it, well aware of all the eyes on me as I answered. It took a second to swallow the lump of fear and force my voice to work. “…hello?”

“Took you bloody long enough to answer,” a familiar voice growled on the line. “What the hell were you doing?”

There was a second of long silence while my brain caught up to the familiar voice. It was a second in which the cold, cold fear was swept away by a stupidly calming amount of relief and joy, and I felt myself grin like a kid on Christmas morning, sitting pin straight on the edge of the couch. “Tiger!”

“Who the hell else would it be? Bloody hell, I’m tired,” he muttered. “Miss you, kid. Wanted to call and let you know we’ll be back in…Lion! Tomorrow or the next day?”

There was a scuffle in the back, bickering voices that I didn’t know how much I missed until I heard it again and my chest _ached_ , it ached in a way that let me know I had grown irreversibly attached to these stupid people, and my entire world brightened in the way it did when Ian came home from a long trip.

“Hey, Alex,” Lion said, voice tired but fond over the line. “You doing okay? Everything good? Yes, Bear, he’s right here, don’t—don’t grab at the bloody phone, mate—”

“Alex!” I heard Bear yell, and I felt my face hurt with how wide I smiled, how relieved I was that they all sounded safe and unhurt and _safe_. “Hey, mate! Geez, we’ve missed you! Tiger’s spacey, he has a bit of a concussion, but we’ll be back late tomorrow night. We’ll swing by and get you and then go home. Sound good?”

Sound good, he asked. Did it sound good.

“Yeah,” I managed, feeling dangerously powerful relief sweep through me. “Yeah, that…that sounds great, Bear. I can’t wait to see you guys. And—and go home.”

There was a careful second of silence on the other end, and I could practically hear them smile. Lion spoke next, with an obvious smile. “See you soon, kiddo. We’ll be home soon.”

It felt true.

For the first time in a really long time, home felt like somewhere I could go, where I’d be safe. Loved.

I felt so stupid for thinking it, but a thought came to mind, and after it did, I couldn’t seem to get rid of it.

There really was no place like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUYSGDBOWINUNMG NOT MY CRYING
> 
> MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!! From me to you with love :)
> 
> Hope you liked this chapter as much as I did! It’s been a while since I could write full-on badass Alex, so I went a little nuts, lol. Still, the tirade was absolutely deserved. God, I hate Fox’s mother. Poor boy. Let me know what you thought!
> 
> MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR! LOVE YOU ALL!


	34. Chapter 34

** Special Extra Part 2!!! **

**So I’ve gotten a couple requests to give physical descriptions of all of my babies, including L- and K-Units, and I was bored and had time, so here they are!**

**PS I tend to write eloquently and professionally as I can to enhance the quality of my work, but my outlines and ideas are SHITSTORMS so I’m not going to edit or proof literally anything on this so you can get a glimpse of my crackhead side thank you Hehehehehe (may or may not include some fangirl headcanon not entirely fit for the story lol)**

Alex Rider my trauma baby

Hair Color: Um…natural blond, dyed black, right now a very very dark brown because he’s really bad at keeping it black; kinda shaggy, little long, he has uwu bangs that all the girls love

Eye Color: brown (I imagine a really rich hickory color because those are BEAUTIFUL eyes omg)

Ethnicity: White, though I imagine he has some Russian and Danish blood (entirely my imagination)

General Description: he’s a cute little shorty with gorgeous eyes that have seen far too much. They don’t have that glimmer that most kids have unless he feels really safe or is with Tom or starts talking about football or music or stuff. He often wears big and baggy clothes because they make him feel safe (sweet bb be still my heart) and I imagine he has a really cute little nose and kinda thin lips and an inability to grow an adequate amount of facial hair because he’s baby and I stand by that shit

Tom Harris my good smol son

Hair Color: curly dark brown hair that literally begs you to just RUFFLE RUFFLE RUFFLE

Eye Color: pretty pretty bluuuuuuue somewhere between the shades of arctic and cerulean (those suckers will draw you in like nobody’s business)

Ethnicity: white, but I’m thinking he has a pinch of Hispanic and a touch of African and a sprinkle of French for *spice*

General Description: he is a bi king and I imagine him to be the pinnacle of soft boi best friends. He has like…the first description that pops into my questionable brain is like PLUSHY features. Like very pinchable cheeks and a little button nose and I’m imagining kind of a big mouth (literally, but figuratively also applies) as well as a splash of adorable light brown freckles. He is a tiny little precious soul who will grow one day (I promise I PROMISE I am going to give him a gigantic growth spurt at some point, the story spans enough time that it will happen, because my boi deserves a few more inches)

Danny Walker / Lion my future husband whether he likes it or not

Hair Color: light brown and immaculate and soft and precious (light caramel brown perchance bc that’s such a pretty color for my perfect boi)

Eye Color: clear beautiful immaculate captivating iridescent blue (think Satoru from Jujutsu Kaizen, my other husband)

Ethnicity: he’s a hodgepodge king, but he’s white (a dash of Spanish, a sprinkle of French, a morsel of Russian, a pinch of Scottish and Irish, a smidgen of Indian from far far far back in his family history, and a whole lotta perfection)

General Description: um well I consider him an Adonis but mostly for his personality but he’s also very very attractive too so let’s get it: he’s pretty ripped—but he’s sometimes a little insecure about it so he wears some baggy clothes. But he’ll totally show it off if someone’s being an asshole. And he has a kinda crooked nose bc his asshole father broke it a couple times and he’s shy about it but it’s cute, and he has quite literally the softest little grin ever and his eyelashes are IMMACULATE and I’m high key fangirling over this fictional character but it’s fine I’m single BYE

Samuel Okinawa / Tiger my plushy little porcupine

Hair Color: dark dark dark dark dark brown basically black, kinda short cause of regulation but still ruffleable hehe

Eye Color: pretty hazel, but I imagine some light green around the edges. His eye shapes are kinda thin and slanted from his Asian genes, but the eyes themselves are kinda flinty, I imagine, especially around strangers, like “don’t mess with me or my people or I’ll literally show you the afterlife”…straight vine energy

Ethnicity: half-Japanese! His other half is Egyptian, Native American, and Welsh, from a long line of ancestors who really loved traveling or traveled for their jobs a lot and fell in *love*

General Description: just what I said—my plushy little porcupine! Plushy is mostly for his personality when he gets all soft, though, cause physically he’s all angles. (PS I originally types angels and yes, he’s an angel). My mans is a small man, a wonderful man, but a small man horizontally—he’s pretty lean and lithe and quick. Like he and Wolf are the same height but he just seems _smaller_. He’s faster, though, so they could totally square up if I ever made them throw hands (which I have no reason to do but in a hypothetical world) and I luv him

Henry Johnson / Bear my precious wonderful loveable squishy LOVE 

Hair Color: dark and kinda curly but not wild at all, like the kinda curly typical of black males that kinda just sits on the head, but it’s cut really short

Eye Color: somewhere back in the line one of his ancestors gave him genes for GORGEOUS brown eyes the color of just _immaculate_ , like, rich cinnamon (which is fitting bc he is a cinnamon roll)

Ethnicity: he’s black! He took a DNA test at some point out of curiosity and he’s mostly Nigerian, but he’s also a little bit Rwandan, with a sprinkle of Algerian for spice

General Description: A CINNAMON ROLL. He’s an adorable beanpole, though. Like _skinny_. A _skinny_ boi. He has pretty typical features of people with black ancestry—he has a handsome biglittle nose and fuller lips (that hold the preciousest excited grin in da whole wide world) and his eyes have the cutest little SPARK in them

James san Luca / Wolf an adorable little cactus with the alter ego of Julia Child 

Hair Color: brown and wurly (wavy curly) but he keeps it cut short bc it annoys him (EVEN THOUGH IT’S SO FLUFFYYYYYYYYY)

Eye Color: brown and cute (imagine hot cocoa in winter) *squeals in fluent fangirl* and they’re kinda like Tiger’s like steely and stuff but just wait til he gets around his family he goes so soooooooft

Ethnicity: Hispanic. That’s it. Like ONE HUNDRED percent Hispanic. He’s so Hispanic he bleeds tamales (though that may be just from how many he eats)

General Description: short and stocky ad RIPPED. He will break you in half with two and a half fingers and one hand tied behind his back if you piss him off (which arguably isn’t hard). I imagine he would give the bestest piggy backs (nieces and nephews can attest, as can Fox [a story for another time of when the K-Unit baby got so wasted he literally didn’t know his name]). He has a big nose but it’s cute. And his eyes are a tiny bit too close together which kinda adds to the *fear* when he narrows them menacingly. But he’s wonderful.

Ben Daniels / Fox the K-Unit baby and Wolf’s veritable child bc Fox needs a decent mother (as we all can see) and Wolf is a wholeass parent 

Hair Color: it’s brown! Dark brown. Imagine a few shades lighter than Tiger’s and adorably fluffy but not as much as Wolf’s (my interests and fictional crushes will tell you I am a SUCKER for traumatized men with black hair and daddy issues who are overprotective *coughcough ISTILLLOVEYOUPERCY* but whatever

Eye Color: imagine a blue-green of the deep ocean after a storm (and if you look here, you’ll see the angsty poetic side of this multi-faceted creature who likes to believe she’s a philosopher)

Ethnicity: he’s a white boi with the best of them! His father was from America but he married into money with his mom (gags at the mere thought of the vile stain of the earth that is Violet Daniels-LaRue) so he has some Native American blood! Also some French blood and a good bit of Slavic blood from multiple countries and I love him

General Description: Um. I just—I love him. He’s a very nice hybrid between muscle and hustle (my stupid not-clever take on being muscley but quick on your feet). Like he’s GOT muscles, he’s toned like fricking Makoto from Free!, but he ain’t buff like Wolf. He is *attractive*. He’s also a heartbreak and the little shit knows it (said with love). I love him. Did I mention I love him?

Kyle O’Reilly / Snake I have no words that will justify what a kind-hearted empathetic loving caring sweet TENDER king this man is

Hair Color: red. Hehe. My lovely ginger. I imagine five shades blonder than the average carrot

Eye Color: hazel! Hazel like a trifecta of soft brown and lush green and sky blue have all been blended together to create one wholesome serving of precious color!

Ethnicity: Scottish is not an ethnicity, but he is Scottish and white af. He’s a pasty piece of freckled paper and I love him for it. He’s really just white—he has really deep roots in Scotland, way back into his ancestry, like some super important clansmen were his ancestors, but he’s kinda sick of Scotland (he doesn’t have particularly good memories there) so he’s enjoying vibing in England

General Description: my heart. My life. My love. He’s pasty pale and has a lot of freckles and has ginger hair and I love him so much. That’s all. I can’t justify him with words so I’m going to let you use your imagination.

Mason Avaria / Eagle my hyperactive little bunny

Hair Color: he’s a cute blondie. It grows straight and fair and is excellent for braiding. Evie’s niece can confirm.

Eye Color: another green-eyed beauty! I imagine a beautiful shade of deep jade green that kinda fades into brighter emerald on the edges

Ethnicity: he, like Lion, is a MIXED baby, but even more so. He has a bit of African blood so his skin has like the slightest dark pigmentation—it looks more like a perpetual tan than anything, really—but he’s also very white with plenty of European representation, and he has like 5% Asian blood from his great-grandfather’s *spicy* adventures in South Korea. So um Eagle, underrated boy that he is, is…really hot *blushes furiously* Evie snagged a good one y’all

General Description: I don’t…really have much else to say. I would honestly say imagine a very tall, kinda twiggy version of a classy LA surfer with a British accent and green eyes that practically hypnotize you and sandy blond hair that kinda creates swoopy bangs that hang low on his eyes a lil…and, uh, imagine a perpetual troublemaker grin and enough energy for several children that just makes him look so cute and adorable and precious…I’m gonna go walk outside and cool down now actually bYe

Random Headcanons:

  1. Wolf, despite his mother persona, is actually the father of his pack, Snake is the mother, Eagle is the older brother who has his life together, and Fox is the wild younger brother who will literally never find stability because he just likes to party and have fun



  1. Evie had an emo phase in high school and joined a punk rock band because she can shred a guitar like fucking cheese



  1. Lion is a single fother (father / mother) who takes excellent care of his family (the troublemaker twins with opposite personalities, formerly Tiger and Elliot, and Bear the cutesy younger brother that everyone dotes on and protects with their life)



  1. If I were to pair opposite unit members based on who I think their best friends would be, these would be my pairs: Fox & Elliot (they would freaking tear up a club and no one can tell me otherwise), Lion and Snake (they have similar energy and honest to God the amount of emotional maturation possible under the guide of those two is staggering), Tiger and Wolf (because they would just fucking vibe in their hatred for most of humanity), and Bear and Eagle (the sugar-rush twins that will require the supervision of at least five adults) [and then there’s Alex who everyone loves unconditionally]



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS If you have any questions about relationships or habits or things about a character you’d like to know but don’t, or anymore headcanons you’re curious about (whatever that may entail), I would love to answer those questions because I love this little universe and it’s so much fun to make up more things about my boys hehehe
> 
> Love you guys, thank you so so much! I really appreciate it!!!


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 32**

As overwhelmingly excited as I was to see Lion and Tiger and Bear again, as disproportionately happy as I was to once again have their unwavering support and acceptance, there were still things I needed to do at K-Unit’s flat.

It was just a few hours after the witch had fled with her proverbial tail between her legs, and I wasn’t too upset about the loss. Despite that, I was pretty sure seeing her, especially without warning, had really rattled Fox. Ruth had come out an hour and a half or so later and apologized profusely to all of us, then left; apparently she’d really only been planning to stop by and say hello, and she was meeting her husband and his family in Gloucester for Christmas proper. She left quickly—she must’ve been pretty uncomfortable after everything.

I felt like I could breathe a little easier when she was gone, even though Ruth herself was nice, but Fox didn’t come out of his room for a long time. I really wanted to check on him, and apologize for stepping in the way I did (not for what I said, but I would’ve preferred to do it when Fox was comfortable with it) but Snake chose that moment to sit me down.

“Ye’re leaving tomorrow, and we still haven’t talked about yer eating habits, or lack thereof,” he explained when I questioned the sudden approach. I scowled, but Snake just lifted an eyebrow. “Ye were the one who said ye’d be fine exploring some causes and management options.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong.

For the time being, I pushed Fox from my mind and decided I’d at least try to focus on the conversation, because Snake wouldn’t accept anything less. “Fine.”

“How gracious of ye,” Snake commented. It took every ounce of willpower not to roll my eyes. “Okay, so, there are a lot of reasons ye may never be hungry. It doesn’t have to be any of these, but some of the more common causes can be anxiety, depression, chronic stress, chronic illness, medications…things like that. Once we figure out a plausible cause, we can figure out some management options. Sound okay?”

I pondered his words, silently reviewing his list and counting on my fingers. “Oh. That makes sense, then.”

“What makes sense?”

I held up four fingers. “Well, I have four of the things you just said.”

Snake blinked. “Um…really?”

“I think so,” I said, reviewing his words again. “I guess together it would make sense that I’m not eating, right?” I’d rather move on from the topic and get to the heart of the matter, but it didn’t seem like Snake was keen to let it go so easily.

“Wait, back up,” Snake said, holding up a hand, and I cursed in my head. Damn. I’d really done it now. “You’ve been diagnosed with…with what, on the list?”

I shifted, shrugging a little, avoiding his eyes. I always felt like I was somehow in _trouble_ when I explained the disorders, though I knew that wasn’t right. I knew Snake wouldn’t be mad at me, or anything, but I hated the way people looked at me after I admitted that yes, I had a mental disorder or two. I just…hated people knowing.

Still, Snake was asking point blank, and I didn’t want to lie to him. I had enough lies and half-truths on my conscience. “Anxiety, depression, chronic stress. I think it was called acute stress disorder, or something. And I think the antibiotic said something about a change in appetite, but I finished that a week ago.” I blinked, thinking. “Is insomnia considered a chronic illness?”

“…it can be,” Snake said carefully.

“Oh. Then I have five.”

Snake was still as a statue for a few seconds before he found words. “Okay. Um…okay. Sorry, I didn’t know. Would ye be more comfortable talkin’ to someone professional?”

“No,” I said, feeling myself shrink a little, though I tried to hide it. This was one of the reasons I didn’t like telling people. I always became a broken thing, something far too delicate to be handled by normal people. I became someone to be coddled and handled with excessive care and concern, when the only thing I wanted was normalcy. “We don’t have to talk about it. I can figure it out myself.”

I made to stand, but Snake fixed me with an unimpressed look. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t help ye, Cub. I only wanted to give ye the option of a professional, since I don’t have my degree yet.”

I paused, glancing at him, and held his eyes for a second. He didn’t look any different from normal, I supposed. Same earnest stare. Same posture. There weren’t any incriminating tics to indicate he was lying or misleading me.

I sat down.

“Okay. Now that we know some potential causes, we can figure out management options,” Snake continued like we hadn’t skipped a beat. That made me feel a little better. I was well aware that Wolf could probably hear every word from the kitchen, but as long as he didn’t say anything—which I didn’t think he would, knowing him—I could deal with him knowing.

“Since ye just stopped takin’ yer medication, I don’t think we have to worry about that very much. Anxiety and chronic stress tend to come with a loss or reduction in appetite, so that makes sense. Insomnia and depression can actually go either way—either yer appetite skyrockets, or it nosedives. When were you diagnosed with all this?”

I think, doing a bit of mental math. “…I don’t know exactly. Maybe eight or nine months ago?” It was just after I’d moved in with the Pleasures, so that time frame sounded about right. “Around then.”

“How long before that were you experiencin’ symptoms?”

That question made me pause. I didn’t know for sure when exactly the job had started catching up with me so obviously. Jack commented every time I came home from a mission that I looked a bit worse—part of her way of trying to get me to refuse any more missions, but I held on to her. It had backfired horribly, but I held on with everything I had, even if it meant more missions.

The toll had been gradual. After the first mission, with the Stormbreaker computers and Sayle, it was almost like a bad dream, and I continued on with life. It was hard adjusting without Ian, but the mission itself seemed almost like a hallucination—I had a nightmare or two, but the thrum of fear was quick to disintegrate. It was only one, after all, and it was a one-time thing, then.

Then there was Point Blanc, which was significantly worse. I was captured again, but when I called for help, I was ignored, and that ignited a different kind of fear that had never gone away. Even then, it had still seemed like—my one odd story I could tell when I was older. That incredibly odd and random thing that had happened once in my youth, that I could look back on in wonder and with aged wisdom. After my distress signal in Point Blanc was ignored, it started to become a reality that things don’t always work out—that sometimes people won’t come to save you.

I’d been injured badly enough to require hospitalization, and that was another turning point—this was dangerous. This was deadly. I could’ve died, and in hospital when Mrs. Jones asked me to go back, I realized there were people who seemed perfectly fine with my death if it would complete the mission.

I realized suddenly that the final turning point was General Sarov.

That mission held a special place of fear in my mind. It wasn’t as bad as Cairo—nothing was—and I thought I ranked the crocodile pit above the events of that mission, but the entire mission itself terrified me even now. I’d seen seasoned agents die, escaped a shark, and nearly been crushed to death even after I gave up the information I was asked for.

Then there was Sarov in his madness—looking back, it was an awful combination of childlike desire and time-driven trauma that created a madness like Sarov. He saved me, and spared me, and in times of weakness when I wanted to go home, when I just wanted to feel safe, his paternal instincts were almost, _almost_ comforting. I still _hated_ myself for those moments of weakness, but I remembered them. I remembered them. It was a twisted kind of love he had for me—the desire to adopt me, the desire to spare me after all my failed escape attempts. It was childlike in its persistence and terrifying in its surrealness.

And then Conrad tried to strangle me and that was new fear. That was new, horrible fear, that I barely escaped, and then—and then.

 _It’s your fault_.

I couldn’t even console myself in the fact that Sarov’s suicide was a result of his madness, because in a horrible twisted way, it was my fault.

That was when I realized I would never escape the consequences of this one-time thing I agreed to on a whim. The stupid agreement I’d made with Blunt for a one-time job, just because I was desperate to keep Jack, my one and only remaining precious person, the one person left who could care for me and keep me from being alone without an adult who could help me with my problems and my growth…it had now become my entire reality.

After Sarov. That was when I started to become this. After Sarov.

“…a year and a half ago,” I approximated after a few long seconds of silence, feeling infinitely worse.

“Ye remember what triggered it,” Snake said after a second. It wasn’t a question—I supposed he could see the memories whirling around in my head.

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Do ye remember if ye stopped eatin’ anytime around then?” I was so grateful he didn’t ask.

I thought back, trying to ignore the other memories in favor of considering the rest of my time—the time at home with Jack and Tom, the time at school. I thought of mealtimes. “I think so,” I admitted, surprised to find it true. “I think I started skipping meals around that time. I didn’t eat if I wasn’t hungry. I just…had more important things on my mind.”

Snake nodded, sitting back to mull over the new information. I shifted, trying to get more comfortable, and tugged on the sleeves of my shirt. I wanted to get Lion’s hoodie, but it was dirty. Plus, it would seem beyond childish, and I didn’t have the presence of mind to deal with that now.

“So, we can be fairly certain that the manifestation of the anxiety and depression was at least a partial trigger,” Snake surmised, glancing at me for confirmation, at which I nodded. It was as good as any other explanation. “Okay. So…well, Cub, I don’t have my degree, but the most obvious answer for things like this is a combination of medication and therapy.”

“I hate both of those things,” I said immediately.

“I know, which is why I’m at a bit of a loss,” Snake admitted, staring at me. It seemed like his mind was running quickly. “What don’t ye like about therapy?”

“I really don’t want to even consider therapy,” I said, feeling my scowl deepen. I felt the uncomfortable sensation of nervousness and unwanted vulnerability prickle at my skin, and I immediately wanted to run away. “Or medication.”

I could tell I wasn’t making things any easier on Snake, and I _did_ feel bad because I knew he was trying to help me, but I wasn’t open to that. Not now, especially not after Dr. Hash and the anxiety attack in his office.

“Okay,” Snake conceded, shrouded concern behind his blank expression. “Cub—Alex—I know a lot of bad things have happened,” he continued, speaking slowly, like he was choosing every word with intentional care. “At least, it seems that way. It seems like there are a lot of things that ye’re runnin’ away from, and if ye don’t stop and deal with them, ye’re going to keep runnin’ til ye crash, and that’s goin’ to be really bad, lad. It’s happened to a lot of veterans, and they had the advantage of age that ye don’t have. I want to help before it gets to that point, and being open to things ye wouldn’t normally consider is important in that.”

Well, there went my good mood from before.

I didn’t want to get mad. I really didn’t. I knew Snake didn’t mean anything by his words other than to try to help confront my demons.

He didn’t know, though. He didn’t know that if I stopped running from my demons, if I stopped for even a second, I’d stop functioning completely, because they’d overwhelm me. I wasn’t strong enough for that yet. I wasn’t strong enough to deal with them. Besides, dealing with my demons meant revealing my secrets, some of them at least, and I wasn’t ready for that either. I didn’t know when I’d be ready for that.

And besides _that_ , I wasn’t just running from demons in my head—they were out there in the real world waiting for me to slip up, and I couldn’t face them yet. I never wanted to face them. I wanted to reach a point where I didn’t matter to them anymore, but I didn’t know when that would be, if ever.

I just…I couldn’t.

“…I can’t do that right now,” I summarized, looking him in the eye. “For a lot of reasons.”

It wasn’t the answer Snake wanted, but he didn’t look surprised, either. He just nodded, and said, “Okay. Then let’s look at some other options.”

And we did. He laid out a few things I could try, and they seemed simple enough. One tip was to set reminders around breakfast, lunch, and dinner, to have an outside tangible reminder to eat. Another strategy was to eat smaller meals more often throughout the day, which seemed tedious. He also recommended I start journaling what I ate and when so I could tangibly see what my daily intake looked like.

It sounded stupid. It sounded like a lot. I didn’t want to do any of it, honestly, but I knew I needed to. When I showered and caught a glimpse of myself in the (newly replaced) mirror, I hated how _skeletal_ I was starting to look. I’d finally forced myself to look at my body earlier today, and it was startling. I was pale—paler than usual—and my ribs weren’t horribly exposed, but they were definitely visible. My cheeks were starting to sink.

I was a mess.

“Okay,” I conceded after a moment of thought. I could be objective enough to know that something needed to change. “I’ll try…the smaller meals thing. That sounds easy.”

“Okay, good,” Snake said, sounding genuinely pleased. “That’s a good thing to start with. And ye can snack whenever you’re hungry, too, or when you’re cravin’ something. Just make sure it’s not all empty calories, yeah? The more color the better. I hear Lion’s a good cook—get him to teach you how to make some things.”

After a moment of hesitation, I nodded. That sounded kind of fun. I could cook simple things, but I doubted I could dish out an entire spread as effortlessly as Wolf or Lion. “I’ll ask him.”

“And if ye ever need any more advice or anything, ye know ye’re welcome to call me,” Snake reiterated, looking serious as he met my eyes. “Really. Got it?”

I could feel myself hesitating again, but…Snake was Snake. He was so earnest and honest I wondered how he’d even manage in combat sometimes. I knew he was serious in his offer—I knew I probably wouldn’t accept it, but the offer was still comforting. “Got it.”

Snake smiled. “Good. Now go eat.”

I opened my mouth to say I wasn’t hungry on instinct, but I figured that would be just the irony Snake needed to force me into therapy or worse, so I clamped my mouth shut and scowled. He laughed.

“Wolf’ll make whatever ye want,” Snake offered.

“Don’t just bloody decide that I’ll be a personal chef without asking me,” Wolf called from the kitchen.

“Ye said ye’d cook me something good! I figured one more dish wouldn’t be too much of a strain on your delicate psyche,” Snake retorted, heading for the kitchen where I could already hear Wolf preparing dishes. I smirked—Snake really had him wound around his finger.

Not a second later, Eagle peeked out from his door and laser-focused onto the kitchen, then onto me. “Food?”

“Food,” I confirmed.

Eagle sprinted.

…

Fox came out for dinner that night, and he acted like nothing had happened at all. Well—that wasn’t quite true. He acknowledged it, and assured us he was fine, and he _seemed_ fine. Still, I knew there was no way he was magically back to normal—not after so much time alone in his room. Besides, his micro-expressions were dead giveaways.

I waited until later that night, when Eagle and Wolf had gone to bed and when I was pretty sure Snake was engrossed in some book, to tap on his door.

“Come in,” he said, sounding wide awake, like I knew he would be. I eased the door open and caught his eye—he was sitting at his desk. “Oh, hey, Alex.”

“Hullo,” I offered. I slid inside, closing the door behind me and leaning awkwardly against the frame, giving the room a cursory glance. It seemed like Fox—mostly neat with a few things strewn around, a lot of seemingly random knickknacks and keepsakes cluttered on his dresser and nightstand. His overhead light was off, but the lamp on his nightstand and on his desk were on, and he was looking at something on a laptop.

“What’s up?” He asked, spinning in his chair to face me. He looked totally normal.

I shifted, feeling stupid. “I wanted to make sure you were okay after today.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said immediately, shrugging nonchalantly. He wasn’t looking at me. “Bit of a surprise, but, you know. Family, right?” He said with something that was supposed to be a conspiratorial smirk, but I noticed how flat it fell around his eyes.

I looked away. I wasn’t very good at this. I couldn’t be brutally honest like Wolf or Tiger, and I couldn’t be distracting like Eagle, or so comfortingly genuine like Bear, or selflessly kind like Snake. I couldn’t be anything like Lion, with his steady presence and sincere words.

“…you don’t have to lie to a liar,” I finally said.

Fox glanced at me, and just a little bit of the faulty spark in his eye fizzled. “I’m not lying.”

I wanted to scoff, but I resisted. Instead, I nodded, and looked away. “Okay.”

“I’m not.”

“I said okay.”

Fox ran fingers through his hair and turned away from me. “Did you need anything else?” He went back to scribbling something on some paper, shoulders hunched in the dim light.

“Sorry for stepping in,” I said, easing the door open behind me. “I’m not sorry for what I said, but I’m sorry for doing it without your permission.”

“You don’t have to apologize for that,” he said without turning around. He looked small. “Wolf would’ve done a lot worse. Besides, I’m glad she left.”

I nodded to myself, even though he couldn’t see me, and stood there for a second longer, searching fruitlessly for something to say. Finally, coming up empty, I said, “Just so you know…you have supported me. The only reason I was able to stay here with you guys was because I knew you were here. I knew I could depend on you if something happened.”

Fox didn’t turn around, but he stopped writing.

They weren’t empty words, either. If I hadn’t worked with Fox, knew him and knew he would help me if I needed it, I would never have agreed to come here for two weeks. I couldn’t. There was no way I could have allowed myself into a flat full of strangers for two weeks. There was no way I could have allowed myself to be so disarmed and vulnerable and _open_ , asleep and alone, if I didn’t know Fox was here.

“I’m sorry if I haven’t made that clear, or…if I don’t have much to show for it,” I said ruefully. “But I depend on you more than I think either of us realize, because…you’re the only one who knows how hard this is,” I admitted, feeling my voice thin in uncertain vulnerability, “in more ways than—than one.”

He was the only one who knew how hard it was to lie and lie and lie, and he was the only one who knew that I was only sixteen and I was far too young to be drowning in everything consuming me.

I slipped out into the hall, but I said before I closed the door, “You can let me support you, too, sometimes.”

With that, I went to bed. I had a feeling both our minds were far too loud to let us sleep.

…

I was excited.

I woke up and wondered why, because I really couldn’t remember a reason to be so excited. As far as I remembered as soon as I woke up, I’d single-handedly (with the gratuitous assistance of Violent Daniels-La-fucking-Rue) ruined K-Unit’s leave time with trauma and torrential emotional outbursts and traumatized Fox’s abusive mother (which I wasn’t guilty about in the slightest). Still, beneath the excitement, I felt a little awful remembering Fox’s hunched shoulders.

But then I remembered L-Unit.

They were coming back today.

The thought made me want to literally jump out of bed and find a way to fast-forward the day. As that was unfortunately not an option, I lay on the couch bed and grinned like a maniac at the ceiling when I remembered, so ready and so excited to be back in our familiar flat with Bear and Tiger and Lion. I missed them so much.

It made me feel a little weak, and it made me feel like my walls that I’d so painstakingly forged and tempered and set were being torn down just a little bit every day, and it scared me. It scared me that three people could have so much control over how I felt and acted and existed. It scared me that I didn’t think I could leave like I had been prepared to do. It scared me that our relationship was founded on lies, and they accepted every truth so easily, and that there might be a truth one day they couldn’t so easily accept.

They scared me, but I needed them, and I didn’t think I could be without them anymore.

So I was excited.

Excitement gave me energy, so I got up early, before anyone else was awake. I figured since it was my last day here, I may as well make breakfast for everyone, as a shoddy thank you. I wasn’t an awful cook, so I figured I could put something together.

Eggs and bacon seemed simple enough, and I’d watched Lion make hash browns once. I figured I’d try it.

Cooking turned out to be pretty relaxing once I got the hang of it. I burned the first egg (but I kind of knew that would happen so I only used one egg the first time) and after that they turned out a little better. They may have been a little on the crispy side, and I had to scrub the hell out of the pan afterwards because I forgot to use cooking spray, but they tasted pretty good. I begrudgingly used some butter, since it was socially required (or so Tom had told me), but it wasn’t too bad in the eggs.

The bacon was an adventure, and if it was a little charred, I did my best.

Wolf came out, half-asleep and groggy, half-way through the hash browns. I didn’t hear him come in at first, and he happened to stumble in when I was methodically trying to flip the hash browns and having absolutely no success. I really just succeeded in scrambling and cooked and uncooked parts together. I cursed in three languages and ended up staring at it as it simmered, trying to figure out what to do.

“Dumbarse,” Wolf muttered, scaring me so badly the soul left my body for a brief moment. “Move.”

I did as instructed, figuring the resident chef could salvage something. “Sorry. I’ve never made them before.”

Wolf glanced at me, then at the pan, and effortlessly separated the cooked and uncooked parts with little more than a flick of his wrist. “Not bad for the first try. You used too much oil.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“You cooked all this?” Wolf asked with a raised eyebrow, glancing at the table.

“I did my best,” I defended, sipping coffee. “It was a thanks for letting me stay.”

Wolf hummed, but didn’t say anything else. I didn’t expect much from him, anyway.

“What time is L-unit getting here?” Wolf asked, flipping the hash browns with infuriating ease.

“They only said late, but I don’t know the exact time.”

“In that case, take Fox out today.”

I glanced at Wolf, a little surprised. “To do what?”

“Anything,” Wolf clarified, finally plating the hash browns with a look of half-decent approval. “He just needs to be _out_. He’ll stay in his room all day and sulk if we let him. I’m not going to be good company, Eagle is far too squirrelly for Fox right now, and…well, Snake’s good company for anyone, but I think if you asked Fox to run errands with you, he’d be more inclined to say yes.”

Well, that was…surprisingly thoughtful coming from Wolf.

“Who are you and what’ve you done with Wolf?” I asked quietly, smirking over my coffee when he sent me an exasperated glance. 

“Just because I don’t braid your hair and gush about my feelings doesn’t mean I don’t have a shred of emotional intelligence,” he clarified with a scowl. “Brat.”

“Arse,” I said under my breath. He hit me with the spatula. “ _Ow_.”

“You deserved it. You insulted a Hispanic with a cooking tool in hand.”

I rolled my eyes and ate begrudgingly. I wasn’t hungry (not that that was a surprise) but I figured I should at least eat some of what I made. It wasn’t that bad.

Wolf agreed, surprisingly. “More butter in the eggs,” he recommended.

Of course.

Snake was up next, eating quickly and departing with a pat on my shoulder, saying he had to go get some last-minute Christmas presents. Wolf was doing the dishes when Eagle got up, grabbed two pieces of bacon, and ran out the door without a word.

I glanced at Wolf for an explanation.

“Brunch with Evie’s parents,” Wolf explained. “Telling them he’s going to propose, and everything. I think he’s late.”

I blinked. “Isn’t that…not good?”

“Evie’s parents know Eagle so well they probably planned to show up twenty minutes late so they’d get there at the same time.”

I had to laugh at that.

It took Fox a long time to get up. Before that, Wolf let me borrow his laptop, so I was checking nearby stores for presents for Lion. I also found an Arsenal poster I thought Jonah would like, so I bit the bullet and added that to my list. I hadn’t realized how expensive Christmas was.

I really couldn’t decide what to get Lion, but I knew I was going to be out of time tonight, so I figured I had to work fast. I was leaning towards the idea of a keyboard. He talked about music a lot, and how he missed school for no other reason than he wanted a piano, so…well, I figured I couldn’t very well drag a grand piano up to the flat (or even think about trying to afford one) so keyboard.

For some reason, it felt inadequate, but I really couldn’t think of anything else. Lion really didn’t like talking about himself too much, so my options were limited, even with the covert questions I tried to sneak into our regular conversations.

I put one on hold at a music store near Oxford. I could take the Tube, but carting a keyboard on and off when my leg was still a little week was going to be difficult, so I figured it was a good excuse to get Fox to drive me, if he was up for it. I was on the web updating my fake parents’ Facebook profile when Fox finally got up.

Wolf made himself scarce almost immediately, I suppose trying to limit my options when I asked for a ride, so I had no choice but to ask Fox, and Fox had little choice but to say yes. 

I tried to work up to it, though, still uncomfortable from the night before. I hated seeing Fox like that.

“Morning,” I said over the top of the screen when he came out, running tired fingers through his hair as he yawned. “There’s breakfast.”

“Oh, thank God,” he said tiredly. He hadn’t eaten much at dinner. “Wolf made it?”

“I did.”

Fox paused, sending a suspicious look my way. “What?” I defended, feeling myself blush. “I can make simple things.”

Fox hummed dubiously, but he made a plate and came to sit with me in the living room. I peeked over the top of the laptop screen and watched his expression as he ate, stupidly satisfied when he looked somewhat impressed.

“Okay, not bad,” he admitted.

“Told you.”

He smirked, and ate, turning on the tellie and flipping to a basketball game. We sat in silence for a few minutes, and I wondered how to broach the topic of going. I knew all I had to do was ask casually and like a _normal person_ , but I still felt nervous, for some reason.

Wolf, behind Fox, stuck his head out of his room and gave me an intentional look, and I fought the urge to flip him off, instead rolling my eyes.

“Fox,” I said at last, deciding to rip off the band-aid. “Do you mind driving me to town today? I have to pick up Lion’s gift?”

“Hm? Sure,” Fox said without glancing away from the tellie. “Can we go after the game’s over?”

I blinked. Well, that was anti-climactic. “That’s fine. Pick-up is until six.”

“We can leave around lunchtime,” he said.

“Kay.”

And that was that.

Wolf rolled his eyes and retreated back into his room.

…

Fox and I got lunch out, and I felt kind of bad, because Snake hadn’t let me pay for my lunch earlier, and Fox wouldn’t now. I really didn’t have the money to spare, but I didn’t know if they knew that or not. I didn’t want to be treated as _broke_ even though I was.

“Let me do this, mate,” Fox said as explanation as he put his card by the check. “You save for when you need it.”

I felt my neck heat up as I thanked him, but I accepted it.

“You seem better,” he said as we drove to the music store, breaking the peaceful quiet bubble in the car.

“I’m excited to see the guys,” I admitted, looking out the window. It was an unusually warm day, so the snow from earlier had turned to bitter slush along the sides of the streets. “I don’t know. I’m just kind of…all over the place, I guess.”

Fox nodded in my periphery. “Well…I’m here if you need me.”

“I am too,” I commented. “If you need something. I don’t know…how good I am at giving advice, but I can listen.”

Fox didn’t look at me, but he nodded again, the slightest bit. I took it as progress.

He helped me cart the keyboard to the car, sending me a startled look. “You bought a whole-arse piano?”

“It’s just a keyboard,” I defended, sliding it into the backseat and thanking God that the door was still able to close completely. “He plays piano.”

“How expensive was it?”

I shrugged, trying to remember. “I don’t know. It was on sale. It wasn’t cheap, or anything, but they’re worth it.”

Fox didn’t look convinced, but I didn’t expect him to. “Okay, well…don’t spend your entire first paycheque, kid.”

“I didn’t. I put a lot of it in savings before I did anything. And Lion and Tiger and Bear are really infuriating about not letting me pay for stuff like food or bills besides rent,” I added, scowling. “I’m pretty sure they know I’m broke.”

Fox sent me a look. “You didn’t get anything in a will or anything? MI6 pays bloody well, your uncle should’ve left you stuff. I thought you were close.”

This was one of the times I wished Fox had even a modicum of social finesse, but he didn’t, and the question was out there.

I didn’t want to answer it. I didn’t like talking about it in the first place, but he’d asked it so point-blank that I didn’t know if I could get around it. I shuffled uncomfortably, opting to get into the car, and he followed suit, glancing at me as I avoided his eyes.

“It’s complicated,” I finally said, hoping he wouldn’t ask further.

“How so?”

Son of a bitch.

I made a sound of frustration, and Fox seemed to realize it was a sensitive topic. “I don’t want to dredge up horrid memories or anything, I’m just asking.”

“I know,” I admitted, fiddling with the sleeves of my jacket. “I—well, my uncle left everything to MI6. Including me. Guardianship of me, I mean. So they—control everything. They were good about making payments on time from the trust, for the house and for bills and stuff. We never really had to worry about it. But they said it wouldn’t be mine until I was eighteen, and—yeah. I doubt I’ll see any of it now.”

I didn’t think that was what Fox was expecting.

Fox looked at me for a long time. We were parked on the side of the road, and I counted at least three cars waiting impatiently for our spot, but Fox didn’t move. I could practically hear the gears turning in his head, and his blank face mostly hid his frustration, but I could see it.

He cursed under his breath and backed out, hands tight on the steering wheel. “That doesn’t piss you off? That’s—that’s just _wrong,_ Alex. That’s your money.”

I shrugged again. Of course, it pissed me off, but… “I can’t do anything about it without putting myself in an even worse situation. It’s not fair, but—well, I stopped wishing things were fair a long time ago, I think. This is how it is, and I don’t think I can change it.”

“It pisses me off,” Fox fumed, visibly upset. “After everything you’ve done for them, you shouldn’t have to be worried about money.”

I didn’t know how to respond, so I didn’t for a long time. Finally, I said, “Maybe one day I can do something about it, but for now…I don’t need money. I’m fine with what I have.”

Fox glanced at me, something unreadable in his eyes. “You’re far too good for the world you keep having to save.”

To that, I didn’t respond. I couldn’t tell him the truth—that I didn’t consider myself good enough for the world at all, after everything—and we drove in silence.

…

I thought we were going to go back to the flat, but Wolf knew Fox better than I thought—Fox wanted to go walk around some. It was painfully obvious how much he didn’t want to return to the flat, so I agreed to walk around one of the parks for a while. He said to tell him if my leg started hurting, but other than the constant ache from the cold, it felt solid.

We walked in silence for a while, and it was nice. It wasn’t so bitterly cold today, and I was sure we both needed the quiet. There weren’t many people out—several people were last-miunte holiday shopping or working, or at home with their families, so the park wasn’t crowded. It was nice—I let myself relax a bit, the number of threats not very high.

“What’s your plan?” Fox asked suddenly.

I started a little, lingering on a bridge out of habit, peering into the lake. It wasn’t high at all—just a tiny land bridge a few feet above a pond with orange and white koi fish bustling round under the rippling surface—but it still sparked a hint of something in my chest, and I felt compelled to look over the edge at the water for a little while.

I turned to Fox as he said my name, tilting my head. “My plan for what?”

“…for all of it,” he said slowly, looking as though he didn’t know what he himself was asking. “I just…I’m worried. Someone already came after you, and I’m sure there’s more where they came from. And you can’t hide from MI6 forever, and the Sergeant’s a smart guy—he’s going to know something’s up eventually. I don’t want you to get there and not have a plan, or anything.”

I inwardly cringed a little more the longer he spoke, glancing back at the water for a brief second of peace. I didn’t know. I didn’t know what to do.

“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” I said honestly, glancing at him as I cleared the last of the bridge, following him towards a shaded area with bigger trees. There was no one around us in hearing distance, so I wasn’t too worried about someone overhearing. I didn’t sense anyone spying on us, either—I’d gotten good at knowing when I was being watched.

“Right now, I’m just…surviving,” I continued. “That’s all it seems like I can do. I’m not…I have a lot of issues, you know, and right now I’m just…I’m just trying,” I concluded, genuinely unsure of how to put my feelings into words. “Everything else is just…it’s not as important as right now, I guess. I’m holding onto what I can. I’m just trying to be okay.”

Fox didn’t say anything, and we continued walking, slow and steady. It was nice, in a way. The light exercise was good for my leg, and I really did enjoy Fox’s company, most of the time.

“You don’t seem very okay,” he said, bumping my shoulder with his own as we walked.

“You don’t either,” I countered with a significant look in his direction.

Fox smiled, humorless and flat. “Yeah, well, I’m older.”

“That literally doesn’t mean anything.”

Fox smirked, just a little happier than before. “Seniority in age _and_ rank, kiddo.”

I tilted my head, considering. “Actually, if you think about it, we joined the SAS at the same time. And I’ve been on more missions than you with MI6. So I outrank you.”

Fox looked at me, absolute indignation in his eyes, but whatever argument he had died in his throat. I smirked as he floundered for a second, finally muttering, “Little shit.”

I laughed a little, shoving my hands into my pockets. It was chilly.

“So, the reason you’re…’not okay’…” he faltered, obviously searching for words. I let him continue, figuring he’d spit it out eventually. It took a minute, but finally he just blurted out, “Was it Egypt?”

I wasn’t expecting the question, and I faltered so badly Fox reached for my elbow to steady me.

I blinked, recalibrating as I stared at the ground and tried to breathe.

“Sorry, sorry, don’t space out, please,” Fox said quickly, taking my shoulders and steering me to the side of the path in case anyone happened to walk by. “Oh, bloody hell, don’t—you _are_ breathing, aren’t you?”

“I’m fine,” I said slowly, nodding belatedly. I still didn’t look at him. “I’m okay. It’s not like—like in the mall. I’m okay.”

“Oh, good,” Fox said, letting his head fall in relief. “Snake would have my head.” I gave him a thin smile and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I asked. You don’t have to talk about it, seriously. I am shutting up.”

It took a minute before I felt like I could speak without faltering, so I finally said, “It’s okay. You didn’t mean to.”

Fox looked at me, long and searching, but he finally seemed satisfied. “We can go back to the car.”

I shook my head immediately. “I don’t want to be in an enclosed space.”

Fox blinked, and I was half as surprised as him that I’d admitted that. Points for communication. “Oh. Okay, no big deal. There’ a bench, do you want to sit? Or walk—”

“Fox. I’m fine.”

Fox’s mouth audibly clicked shut, and he followed me as I continued to walk.

He was serious about shutting up, because he didn’t say another word, and I didn’t know what to say. I’d always been quiet, but putting my emotions into words had always been especially hard. Ian had initially hired Jack because he needed help taking care of me when he was away, and because I’d been so bad at communicating as a child it often took a couple minds working together to translate for me. I’d had a bad habit of shutting down when I didn’t understand things or when I wasn’t feeling well instead of reaching out, and it hadn’t gotten any easier after everything.

It usually took someone reaching out to me first, or knowing me well enough to know what was wrong. Tom had gotten pretty good at it—not that I was surprised—and Jack was always so good at knowing exactly when I was thinking or what I needed just by the slightest change in my behavior.

Tom wasn’t around all the time anymore, and Jack was gone, so unsurprisingly, I’d shut down without even realizing it.

Most reveals I made to L-Unit or someone else were prompted by questions or gestures, and I rationalized the reveal and the silent request for support with the notion that it was repaying a debt for said question or gesture, because I knew they wanted me to start opening up. Revealing things without a reason, admitting things, admitting when I needed help—these things were all still vey difficult, especially after I’d been thrown to the sharks and ignored so many times.

Fox was reaching out, and I didn’t know what to do.

I thought as we walked, looking mostly at my feet, paying attention to the way he shifted beside me. I could tell he was uncomfortable with the silence, but he didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything.

At least he seemed a little more like his old self.

“…yeah,” I finally said, and the word burned.

“Hm?” Fox asked, glancing at me.

“Yeah. I’m not okay because of what happened in Egypt.”

Fox’s steps slowed, and he looked very conflicted. He had no idea what to do.

“It was really bad,” I admitted. I’d told Tom what happened, I’d told Mrs. Jones and Alan Blunt in the debrief, I’d told the Pleasures, I’d told the psychiatrist, but I’d never gone into much detail. Even with Tom, I told him the facts, and that was it, because I didn’t want him to have to carry that image like I did. It was clinical and detached and most of it was omitted, anyway.

It felt like I was talking about it for the first time. Like the nightmare that tore me apart every night was finally being voiced after being real only in my sphere of existence.

I spoke, uncensored and truthfully, about Jack’s death for the first time.

“I…made a group mad,” I said, staring at the weathered asphalt, full of brittle twigs and the shriveling shadows of the stubborn leaves that had finally succumbed to the cold. “A terrorist organization. They came after me, and they took me, and Jack. My guardian. She was kind of a live-in nanny, you know? My uncle Ian hired her when I was six or seven since he traveled so much. She, uh—she meant a lot to me. I loved my uncle, really, but when he wasn’t there, she was, and—yeah. She was like a big sister, but more.

“They took us, and…the main guy, he…” I faltered, and Fox put a hand on my elbow. It grounded me enough that I could continue, quietly. “He was trying to find a measurement for pain. He was a scientist. I thought he was going to torture me. I was—I was terrified, because he’d—tortured a lot of other people to death, and…I was just really scared. But he didn’t…”

My hands shook, and I curled them into fists, my bruised knuckles aching enough to keep me in the present. I didn’t know how I was still talking. Maybe it was a combination of the pain and Fox’s steady hand, but whatever it was, I kept talking, because the words wouldn’t wait for me anymore.

“He didn’t hurt me at all. I wish he had, but he didn’t. He wanted—he wanted to test—emotional pain. Figure out how to measure pain based on physical reactions to emotional pain. So he made me—me watch. He made me watch.”

I had to stop, and breathe, and blink away the fire. We weren’t walking anymore. We were standing in the middle of the trail beneath a canopy of leafless, whitewashed branches, in the cold under a clouded sky. I couldn’t see Fox’s face, but his hand was so tight around my elbow it almost hurt.

“He’d planned an escape for Jack. Set it up and let her think she was going to escape and come back with help to save me. She found a Jeep. It was waiting for her. He gave—”

I stopped, and Fox said something, but my heart was pounding too loud in my ears. I felt phantom restraints around my wrists and ankles and bare chest, and I was so scared, watching that screen. “It was planted with explosives. He gave the detonator to Julius Grief—long story short, my clone from another mission. And Julius—he hated me. _Hated_ me. And I begged him, Fox, I begged him not to push the button. I—I _begged_. But he—did, and—and she—”

“Stop,” he said quietly, moving a hand to my back. I stood frozen. I couldn’t make myself say the last part, no matter how hard I tried. I felt my brain trying to shut down as I remembered, trying to run from the trauma, and I couldn’t move. “It’s okay. It’s okay. You don’t have to say anymore.”

Fox didn’t really do many boundaries. He knew I didn’t really like to be touched without warning, but he didn’t care much, either. He said what he thought and he did what he wanted. So, I kind of expected it when he hugged me, but I didn’t stop him.

“I’m so sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, Alex. I’m sorry you’ve been dealing with that by—by yourself this whole time. _Shit_ , kid—”

He broke off, his voice colored with empathetic pain and hatred and something else, but—but he…it was the first time I’d spoken about it so honestly, even after telling Tom, and I just—didn’t know. I didn’t know what to feel, and he was here, and I felt safe.

After a long moment of hesitation, I hugged him back, and soon I was holding on for dear life.

“I’m sorry,” he kept saying, voice low and quiet and so sad. “I’m sorry.”

It had been a mission assigned from Wolf to cheer Fox up, and I was sure that I’d failed horribly. But still, I felt—awful, and lighter. Awful because speaking it was painful. Remembering was painful, and I was much weaker on the inside than I showed to other people, and remembering was too much.

But lighter, because Fox listened, and accepted, and…and he was still here. He didn’t shy away like Sabina had, he didn’t try to avoid the topic like Tom. He knew loss, and he knew how much it _hurt_.

Fox hugged me for a long time. I thought I’d fall apart, but I didn’t. I thought the gaping wounds inside me would splinter even further, but they didn’t.

For once, I let someone in, and despite the vulnerability and the terrifying ache of the thought of being ignored or left again, it helped. It helped.

A few minutes later, the sun peeked through the cloud-brushed sky, and the world was just a little bit brighter.

…

Fox drove us around for a while longer after that. He turned soft music on low volume—instrumental tracks of popular songs on piano or strings, and neither of us spoke. I guessed he saw me shiver, because he shrugged off his jacket and handed it to me with a look that said he’d be personally offended if I didn’t accept it.

I gave him a thin smile and put it over my legs. It was warm.

He drove aimlessly, and we didn’t speak. It was pretty nice—I felt almost sleepy a few minutes in, and I thought I might have dozed for a little while, but Fox let me. The sun was setting by the time he finally suggested we head back.

“Are you ready to go back?” He asked quickly after the suggestion, cutting his eyes to me. “We don’t have to. We can get dinner somewhere and then head back.”

I shook my head. “I’m okay now. It was just…kind of a lot, in the moment, but…the drive helped. Thank you.”

Fox nodded, looking at me with scrutinizing eyes for a moment longer. He did that a lot.

“Sorry for…I don’t know…being depressing,” I stammered uncertainly, a little guilty knowing that he was having a shit day yesterday and I probably didn’t make it any better.

“Don’t—don’t do that,” Fox said quickly, shaking his head so hard I thought it was going to come off. “Don’t. I—no. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“You sound mad.”

“I am. Not at you.”

I looked at him, but he didn’t seem like he was lying, so I took him at his word and looked away. “I—um—I was serious last night, by the way. I don’t think I would’ve been able to come stay here if I hadn’t known you’d be here.”

Fox paused, then nodded. “I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

The promise was fickle, because no one but Tom had ever kept it. Still, I…Lion would keep it. I knew he would. And Bear and Tiger. And…I supposed it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to trust that Fox would keep his, too. It was painfully scary, in a way, to open myself up to that kind of permanent relationship without knowing how the future would affect it.

But this was better. I knew, rationally, it was better, and it was a sign that I might be…not getting better, but open to healing. Somehow. Eventually.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

“Don’t thank me. Just come to me when you need me.”

I nodded. “I’ll…try. Promise.”

That was enough.

…

Fox pulled into the garage, and we idled for a minute. I sent a questioning glance his way, handing him his jacket, but he was staring at his phone.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

He surprised me by smiling a little at the screen then tucking it away, shaking his head. “No, everything’s fine. Leave the heavy-arse keyboard and we’ll come back for it tonight.”

“Um…okay,” I said. I didn’t see why we couldn’t just keep it in the flat. Though I supposed it would be easier to just transfer it to L-Unit’s car when they got here. I’d just tell Lion to go away for a few minutes.

My leg ached a little after so long in the cold and so long walking around, but I stubbornly refused to take the lift, even after Fox suggested it. Fox didn’t stop smiling the whole way up.

“You’re being weird,” I finally said, glancing back at him as I walked down the hall towards the flat.

“You’re weird,” he shot back.

Oh, yeah. Fox was definitely an older brother.

I waited as he unlocked the door, a little lost in my thoughts. I hadn’t started packing yet—not that I had much _to_ pack—but Snake had offered to do my laundry, so I was going to have to fold it and put it away. I needed to try to fit some of the presents in my duffle, too, so I didn’t have too many suspicious bags.

I followed behind Fox, lost in my head, so when a body slammed into me, I nearly flipped them on instinct.

“Alex!” A familiar voice shouted, and I realized very suddenly that the beanpole that had me trapped in a bear hug was, incidentally, Bear.

It took my brain a long second to catch up, but by the time I did, Bear was pushing me back with hands on my shoulders and a face-splitting grin. “Aw, mate, we missed you! The mission wasn’t nearly as fun without our double oh seven.”

I couldn’t help the grin on my face as I peered around Bear to see Lion and Tiger in the foyer. “I thought you weren’t going to be back until later!”

“Yeah, we came back a little early, thought we’d surprise you,” Lion said, ruffling my hair with a careful hand and pulling me in. “You been okay? Any incidents, scuffles, whatever?”

“Um…” I said, unsure of how to answer, seeing as there had been a multitude of incidents.

“I knew it!” Tiger shouted, punching Bear in the bad hard enough to draw a wince from him. “I _knew it_. Bear, you owe me seventy bloody quid, you cheapskate. Alex, what’d you do? Depending on the circumstances, I get more money.”

I threw my head back and laughed, Lion’s arm around my shoulders, Bear and Tiger squabbling like kids in the foyer of K-Unit’s flat. For a moment, nothing else mattered. For a moment, I could almost forget about the vulnerability, the loneliness, the fear, the future. For just a moment, I didn’t care about anything else.

For just that moment, I had almost everything I wanted, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

**Classifying the characters into Avatar the Last Airbender nations because I have the power and no one and I mean no one can stop me. These are also based entirely on vibes and not any knowledge of the ATLA universe:**

  1. **Alex** : I originally put an earth type, but the longer I thought about it, I think he’s a water type. He’s always in motion, and he enjoys the calm and the peace, but sometimes his emotions are like a hurricane, or a tidal wave, and…yeah. He can also be very compassionate, which reminds me of the peaceful waters.
  2. **Tom** : fire, not because of anything bad, but just because he’s so _chaotic_
  3. **Lion** : Air. Absolutely. He just has that sense of peace and support—like on the horrible days when you feel a nice breeze and you just think that everything’s going to be okay
  4. **Tiger** : Fire. For sure. Just—yeah.
  5. **Bear** : I think air. A little more chaotic and unpredictable than Lion, like more of a windstorm, but air for sure.
  6. **Wolf** : Earth, I think. I initially went with fire, but Wolf is also very self-disciplined, so I think he could be a FORMIDABLE earth-bender
  7. **Snake** : Oh, absolutely water. He just has such a healing personality, and he’s so calming.
  8. **Fox** : Hm. I really struggled with. I wanted to say fire, but I think I’m going to have to go with air. I think I get those vibes just because he’s like the air, and he’s not easily tied down—he’s always moving direction and going every which way
  9. **Eagle** : I really struggled with him. I don’t think water, and I don’t think fire, just because he’s not all calming or all chaos, but he is a little bit of both. And I don’t get earth vibes, so by process of elimination, I’m going to assign him to the Air squad.
  10. **Evie** : FIRE! Because she’s a spitfire. Healing fire, though, for sure. Like, healthy fire. Light and warmth.
  11. **Jessie** : MY JESSIE! Definitely a water type. She’s just so genuine and sweet, I can’t imagine her as anything other than a water-type.
  12. **Jonah** : My baby Jonah. I see air. Idk why—like I said, all based on vibes, instead of actual things.



**More random headcanons from the perspective of you being the character-in-question’s significant other that will emotionally destroy you (because that’s all I’ve been seeing on TikTok and my single ass wants to feel loved)**

  1. Henry/Bear still doesn’t trust himself with pain medication even if it’s just ibuprofen or something so when you guys were finally close enough and he trusted you enough he started asking you to get it and dose it out for him but he was really really nervous about it at first
  2. The first time you dressed up for a date with Sam/Tiger he literally couldn’t speak the whole night. Like he _wanted_ to compliment you but he just couldn’t stop looking at you long enough to form words.
  3. When Lion/Daniel met your dad for the first time, he was really nervous, both because he wanted him to approve and because he’s just usually nervous around older men (fuck you Lion’s dad) but now they’re like best buds
  4. Tom talks more than most normal humans, but he could literally listen to you talk for hours. Like it doesn’t matter what he wants to say—he will sit his ass down and just listen to you talk as long as you want with a cute little smile, doesn’t matter what you’re saying
  5. The first time your family came over to meet Wolf/James he stress-cooked so much food trying to impress them that Fox finally went to buy a mini-fridge.
  6. The first time Alex finally got the courage to show you all his scars, he was so scared you wouldn’t love him anymore, but then you told him they didn’t matter, and you loved all of him anyway, and he started crying and thanking you over and over again. * _screams in fluent depression_ *
  7. Fox/Ben is definitely a playboy and he’s a huge flirt, but as soon as he even gets an _inkling_ that it’s making you uncomfortable or self-conscious, he immediately redirects all his attention to you and does everything he can to make you feel like the most special person in the room
  8. The first time Eagle/Mason asked Evie out on a date she literally kicked him in the _nether regions_ because he literally put a fake spider in her hair in the middle of church. Then he came back and did it again a week later, and she was like, “well, if he’s willing to risk another nutshot, I guess I can give him a chance.”
  9. When you gave Snake/Kyle a key to your apartment for the first time, he smiled and thanked you and excused himself because he was trying not to get overwhelmed, because he’s never had anything like that outside of K-Unit, the way he grew up. To him keys mean a lot more than a place—they mean trust and home. It’s one of the most important things he has.



Some random questions from a reviewer on my other site: 

  1. Did Bear’s dad ever remarry?: **No, he didn’t**
  2. Will we ever get to meet his mom?: **Maybe ;)**
  3. Does Tiger have any siblings: **Nope, Tiger’s an only child!**
  4. Where did L-Unit grow up? **Lion grew up around Nottingham, Bear grew up in Manchester, and Tiger grew up traveling between England, Egypt, and Japan for his dad’s job**
  5. Are they wondering about Alex’s adopted family? I mean, they know about Sabina, so they could ask about his adoptive parents: **They’re wondering, but they don’t want to push him for information, so they’re waiting for him to share when he’s ready :)**
  6. Does MI6 still have custody of Alex or do the Pleasures?: **We will answer that in the future!**
  7. Will we ever see the Pleasures again?: **Maybe ;)**
  8. Is Ben aware that he killed Alex’s godfather?: **Not yet :(**
  9. Will Alex encounter the chaos that is Wolf’s family? **Eventually!**
  10. Will he be coddled by tiny but very stubborn grandmothers (Wolf’s or Tiger’s or whoever?): **WAIT MAYBE THAT’S SUCH A CUTE IDEA**
  11. Has L-Unit had any serious relationships in the past?: **Tiger had a pretty serious girlfriend, but she couldn’t handle him being away so much, so they broke up. Bear’s more flirty and hasn’t settled down yet. Lion has tried dating, but he’s very insecure about his scars and he doesn’t trust easily, so it’s really hard for him.**
  12. Any tragic breakups?: **Tiger was pretty broken up about his breakup (haha wow)**
  13. Any crazy exes: **none really *crazy* but Bear has dated some questionable people XD**
  14. **I am happy to answer literally any question!!!! I love love love L-Unit!!!**



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not me crying at three in the morning writing these soft headcanons that can never happen because they’re fictional characters *screams in fluent simp*
> 
> aaaaaahhhhhhHHHHHHHH I’m crying my babies oh my God. Okay. Freakout over.
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter as much as I did :D I loved it a lot. My mans Fox being protective is the bestest. And L UNIT I MISSED THEM SO MUCH HOLY SHIT I WAS HAVING LITERAL WITHDRAWALS! I’m so excited they’re back! Let me know what you thought or what you liked about it!!
> 
> Thank you all for your awesome support!!! I hope you enjoyed this chatper, and please leave a review! :D


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just ‘cause I love you guys, and you’ve all been asking, and it seemed like a nice time to introduce a new POV ;)
> 
> Also, I feel compelled to put another warning, but like…where there is Wolf, there will be naughty words, so expect that from now on.
> 
> ALSO ALSO ALSO READ READ READ: WANNA SEE SOME FANART OF THESE CHARACTERS THAT MAKES ME SO INCREDIBLY HAPPY AND ECSTATIC AND THANKFUL??????? Go to Deviantart and search jojo25102. It’s INCREDIBLE. And AMAZING. And it brings me JOY! Please if you have an account and you like the work, comment to let her know!!!! She’s so awesome!
> 
> PS The new cover illustration is hers, too!
> 
> Enjoy :)

“He did _what_?” Lion asked, familiar exasperation and worry buzzing in his head before he remembered that Alex was safe and on his way back. Lion saw similar looks of surprise on Bear and Tiger’s faces, and as much chaos as Alex seemed to attract, Lion just couldn’t stop being surprised. “He broke your mirror?”

“Oh, well, that was one of the simpler things to fix,” Eagle said, glancing at Lion from where he was folding the sheets from the pull-out bed Alex had been using. Maybe from the look on Lion’s face he realized that was the wrong thing to say, because he blanched a little. “Um—yeah.”

“What else happened?” Tiger asked, eyes glazed but attentive as he sat in one of their armchairs, still suffering a couple of side effects from a nasty concussion. He’d been a little too close to an explosion and had been tossed into a brick wall—they were lucky only his head had been hurt, and even luckier that he had a thick skull.

“Well—I mean, do you want it chronologically, or—”

“Stop talking,” Wolf sighed, turning to us. “Eagle’s making it sound worse than it is. Nothing awful happened.” Wolf blinked, then looked away, considering. “Well—”

“Lord, I dunno why I let them do anythin’,” Snake finally said, rolling his eyes. “There were some mishaps, but in the end everyone’s fine, and nothin’ happened that can’t be fixed. He did have a wee infuriatin’ habit of disappearing, but he was fine every time, so no harm done. The second one was a bit of a bigger scare, because he wandered off in London, but that was alright, too. It was after a particularly bad therapy appointment, too, so some slack is deserved.”

Lion winced, unfounded guilt humming to life in his chest. He knew, logically, that it wasn’t his fault he hadn’t been here to help Alex through it this time, but he also remembered the startlingly blank look on his face after his last appointment. He remembered the tension in his shoulders, the look in his eyes. He didn’t imagine it had gone any better this time round, especially without him or Tiger or Bear to talk him through it.

“We found him, and everythin’ was fine, of course,” Snake reiterated, and Lion forced himself back to the conversation, nervous energy buzzing in his toes at the thought of Alex alone on the freezing streets of London. He fingered the watch heavy around his wrist, and wondered if Alex could have used it. “He and Fox had a massive fight—” Heat, angry and protective, coiled quickly in Lion’s chest—“but they made up. I think they’re better than they were, now. Dunno what the fight was about, though,” Snake said, turning to Wolf.

Wolf shrugged, looking unconcerned. Lion had the feeling that was the norm, for him. “Something about Fox being upset that Cub refused to let people help him, and Alex being upset that Fox thought he couldn’t do it on his own, or something. I dunno, they were speaking in bloody riddles most of the time.”

No, that sounded right. Lion sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “ _Christ_ ,” he whispered, genuinely invoking the patience of Jesus Christ himself, because he wouldn’t be able to get through this without divine intervention.

“Right. Well, they’re fine now. He had a particularly awful flashback at the mall—Fox said it took him several minutes to pull him out of it, and even then he wasn’t breathing right—but again, everything’s fine now. He punched the mirror in the bathroom that same day, but he never did say why, though I have a few guesses.”

Eagle took up the mantle, then, and Lion wondered how there could possibly be _more_. “Then—and this was not his fault at all, by the way, and he handled it gloriously—Fox’s shit mother came round without warning and Cub verbally demolished her, which was a thing of utter beauty. Then he disappeared again, but only for a few minutes, and he was alright afterwards. Now he and Fox are out—doing something? Christmas shopping? Fox knows to wait to bring him back, so they’re probably just killing time now. He needed it as much as Cub.”

“Oh, I have a question,” Wolf cut in, eyes sharpening, before Lion could even begin to digest all of that. “Does he bloody _eat_ with you?”

Lion blinked at the abrupt question, glancing to Bear and Tiger. Sure, Alex didn’t eat _much_ , especially for a young man his age, but Lion just figured it was a metabolism thing. He hadn’t ever been particularly _concerned_ , except for the days he barely ate anything at all. Usually, it was a side effect of some other issue, and once they fixed that, he ate.

Bear looked just as clueless as him—furrowed eyes, flat lips, and genuine confusion and concern. Lion’s eyes slid to Tiger, though, and despite the concussion, his friend’s face was turned down in a scowl of displeasure. Concern, too, but primarily displeasure.

“Um…he never eats much, but he eats, yeah. Tiger?”

Tiger scrubbed a hand lightly at his head, and Lion wanted to let his friend rest, but this question obviously needed answering. “In the Czech hospital, when I was staying with him. Dr. Svoboda said he was underweight. Alex admitted that he skipped meals a lot, just because he wasn’t hungry, but he said it wasn’t intentional, and I believed him. I thought he was getting better,” he said with a glance in Snake’s direction.

“No, definitely not,” Snake said, shaking his head. “He barely ate at all if we didn’t force him. It was like pulling teeth. I gave him some advice this morning on how to handle it all, and he said he’d try it, but keep an eye on him.”

Lion nodded, dread pooling in his gut. He really thought Alex would be okay with them gone, but apparently there were things he hadn’t accounted for.

“Fox just texted. They just parked,” Wolf said, glancing up from his phone. “D’you want o stay for dinner? I made a shit ton in case.”

Lion was tempted to say no so they could get home, but Tiger’s head was settled firmly in his hands in obvious pain, and he wanted to give his friend some rest before they drove the hour back to Cookham. “That would be great, thank you.”

Wolf grunted what Lion assumed was an affirmative and retreated to the kitchen, followed by Bear, who’d been complaining about how hungry he was for the past bloody hour. Tiger was still out of it, so Eagle offered to get him some pain meds, and Lion pulled Snake aside after a significant look in his direction.

“Did he try anything?” Lion asked quietly, cold, heavy anticipation in his gut. His mind flashed to the image of Alex half-dead, covered in his own blood and bruises on his couch, pale and cold and still, in the aftermath of the assassin and that bridge.

Lion had weighed the decision heavily, so heavily that he broke his limit for cigarettes that day from the stress alone, but he decided he had to tell Snake about Alex’s suicide attempt. He knew, he _knew_ Alex didn’t want anyone to know about it, but Lion could not and would not leave him alone without someone else knowing, just in case something happened and he tried again. It had barely been a month, after all—recovery took far longer, and while he trusted Alex and his promise, Lion couldn’t trust the world in which Alex lived and the things haunting him.

It wasn’t as though he and Snake were particularly close, and Lion had been more than a little uncomfortable at first. He’d asked Snake to meet him nearby after he’d come over once to help Bear with Alex’s physical therapy, but the man had been surprisingly gracious about the whole thing. Lion mostly chose Snake because Alex mentioned he liked the man well enough, and although he’d dealt with Wolf and Fox in the past, Lion had his reservations about the two of them—Wolf didn’t seem like the type of man to tiptoe, no matter what the situation, and Lion still didn’t completely trust Fox, after Alex’s first reaction. Lion didn’t know much of anything about Eagle, and that left Snake, who was mild-tempered and calm enough for Lion to convince himself he could know about Alex’s decidedly fragile mindset, no matter what the kid said.

“No,” Snake said seriously, and Lion felt something in him break in relief. “He didn’t try anythin’, but I’m really glad ye told me, because some of the signs are textbook,” he continued, and that cold dread began to simmer again. “Sleepin’ schedule’s all over the place, he barely eats, and he definitely mentioned feeling like a burden a few times, which is one of the most concernin’. Besides that, I’m sure there’s a lot of trauma that we don’t know about,” Snake continued with a glance towards the door, “and we can’t help with what we don’t know.”

Lion took a deep, steadying breath, and shoved his hands in his pockets when he felt his hands twitch in desire for another cigarette. “I was afraid of that.”

After Bear had opened up to him and Tiger about his fleeting suicidal thoughts as a teenager, Lion had gone a little overboard in his research—he wanted to be prepared for anything, just in case. He knew all the major warning signs by heart, knew some strategies to support the individual, everything, but every shred of it felt so inadequate, so irrelevant, when he thought of Alex.

Alex was a mystery wrapped inside a puzzle, hidden deep inside concrete walls forged from trauma after trauma. Every time he let something slip, revealed something else, it only left Lion and the others with more questions. Lion thought he was doing a good job of keeping it from showing, but he was getting sick of not knowing who to go after.

Lion didn’t consider himself a vengeful person. He’d never actively wanted to seek out his father for revenge, those drunkards who’d threatened his sister, his mother who’d left them…he didn’t think he’d wanted to actively pursue any retaliation against those people in his life. But Alex obviously hadn’t had anyone to protect him, just like Lion, and—Lion just didn’t want—Lion didn’t want him to feel alone anymore, was all, because Lion knew that feeling, and it burned.

He’d always had Angelica, but when they were runaways, skipping between relatives who weren’t much better off than they were, he’d tried to burden her as little as possible, and that forged a certain loneliness of a child given too much. He didn’t ever want his little sister to carry that weight, and he wanted to take some of it from Alex, now.

But Alex was so _stubborn_. For good reason, Lion was gathering, but so stubborn, and so afraid. Lion didn’t know what he could do with the knowledge he had, because everything Alex did was so unconventional, it was taking everything he had to keep up.

“He’s going to need a lot of support,” Snake said, confirming Lion’s worries. “I figure ye lot will be fine, and we’ll try to make an effort to be on standby, but I really think he needs therapy or medication, probably both.”

“He has medication, he just doesn’t take it,” Lion grumbled, dragging a hand down his face. He was exhausted. “He doesn’t like the way it makes him feel.”

Snake’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not good.”

“Yeah,” Lion agreed. “I’ll…we’ll talk to him. See what we can convince him to try. I just…he’s drilled himself to resolutely into keeping his secrets that I don’t know if any therapist would even help,” Lion admitted, voicing his worries for the first time in a while. Bear and Tiger knew, but they hadn’t spoken about it in a while. “I don't know if that will work.”

Snake sighed, looking away and scraping a hand over his head. “I don't either,” he admitted. “But he's a lot more likely to listen to you than to us. I think we're all fine now, but it was rough at the beginnin’, especially after how poorly trainin’ went.”

Yeah, Lion still wanted that story, but he was willing to let old ills rest for now. “Alright. I’ll let you know.”

Snake nodded with a calm smile and they returned to the living room, where Tiger had finally given in to lying down on the couch. Eagle was glancing worriedly at the other soldier as he flipped distractedly through a magazine. “Okay?” Lion asked, familiar concern narrowing his vision.

Tiger waved a flippant hand, the other arm thrown over his eyes. “Bloody bright. And spinning.”

Lion hummed in dissatisfaction, but accepted the explanation. It hadn’t been a major concussion, but Tiger had never had the best constitution, even with how much he worked out. “Take it easy, alright?” Tiger grunted in affirmation.

Lion wandered into the kitchen to check on Bear as Snake started talking quietly to Eagle about an engagement. Lion found Bear talking Wolf’s ear off about something on the mission, while Wolf glared at a pot on the stove.

“Bear,” Lion interrupted with an exasperated smile. “I’m sure he’s trying to cook.”

Bear, whose face was stuffed with half a bagel, glanced at Wolf with wide eyes, as if he’d just realized he’d been ranting for six minutes. “Oh, sorry.”

“S’fine. It’s nothing compared to Eagle when he gets going,” Wolf responded without looking up, shimmying something around on the pan in front of him. Lion didn’t consider himself a cooking expert, despite what his unitmates insisted, but he couldn’t deny whatever was in Wolf’s pan looked damn good.

“See? It’s fine,” Bear said, taking another ungodly bite of bagel. “I was telling him about the landmine in Iran. Remember, the one that Ell triggered?”

Familiar, time-shorn grief hummed to life, but Lion smiled, pleased that they were finally able to talk about Ell without the insurmountable pain from at first. Lion didn’t particularly like to remember the period of time just after Elliot’s death—it had nearly torn them apart—but now that time had dulled the edges, it was nice to remember his friend. “I remember. Bloody idiot was trying to skip rocks on the sand. I thought the commanding officer was going to skin him alive.”

Bear laughed and continued on with the story, and Lion was thankful to know that he could talk about Elliot now, in a positive light, as well. Even with Tiger and Elliot’s friendship, Bear had still taken his death the hardest, since Ell had died saving him.

“What’re you making?” Lion asked when Bear finally stopped to breathe.

Wolf flicked blank eyes in his direction. “Stir fry. The brat said he liked it.”

“He does,” Lion agreed with a smile, watching the soy sauce glaze over the onions and fried egg. The pot held rice, which looked almost done. “That looks good.”

Wolf grunted in acknowledgement, and Lion was glad he wasn’t the type to get easily offended, after being friends with Tiger for so long. “Cub said you cook too,” Wolf said nonchalantly, and the use of actual words from the gruff man almost surprised Lion. Wolf fluffed the rice and scooped it into the simmering glaze, steam billowing from the pan as he did so. “He tried to make breakfast this morning. It was halfway decent.”

Lion smiled, feeling fond, and really couldn’t wait to lay eyes on the kid himself. He flicked eyes towards Bear as he polished off the bagel and went to pester Tiger about something. “Yeah, he likes cooking, as long as it’s simple stuff.” Wolf didn’t respond, flipping the contents of the pan in rapid succession to evenly coat the rice. God, Lion had missed real food. He hated MREs. “So…Wolf, how was he? I already spoke to Snake, but Alex said you…worked together, before.”

Wolf glanced at him and shrugged. “How much did he tell you?”

“Just that you worked together, after he was Cub,” Lion said carefully. “He didn’t tell us much else, and I’m not asking for that. Just…you knew him before, so I was wondering if you…noticed anything. That we should worry about.”

“Well, how much fucking time do you have?” Wolf muttered, and Lion blinked in surprise. “I worked with him nearly two years ago, and not for very long, but he was a lot better than how he is now. I dunno what the bloody hell happened in between, but he’s barely the same kid.”

Lion felt his shoulders sink. “Really?”

Wolf nodded, reducing the heat on the pan to simmer and turned to chop some chives with smooth, quick movements. “Still a spitfire with the best of them when you get him going, still far too sarcastic for his own good, but something or someone fucked him up. I have a good idea of who it was, too,” he continued with a scowl, “but there’s not much we can do about that.”

Lion barely kept himself from asking for a name, hands fisting in his pockets.

“He’s skittish as hell. He was quiet before, but he was practically a ghost at the beginning. And I dunno if it’s been diagnosed or whatever, but from what Snake and Fox said about his flashbacks, he’s got some pretty fucking bad PTSD. So, yeah.”

Lion sighed, familiar unease in his blood. It reminded him of the first few months after Angelica went off to college—the startling _wrongness_ , the surprising uncertainty of day to day life without a specific person who should be there but wasn’t. That was how he felt on this mission without Alex—while he was more than happy to keep the kid out of harm’s way (he didn’t really know how he’d cope when he was expected to bring Alex on more missions, but that was a problem for later) he missed him, and was unsettled knowing he wasn’t there to help Alex if things went wrong.

“But he’s a strong kid,” Wolf said, his voice tense with forced nonchalance, punctuated with a dismissive shrug that couldn’t hide the spark of pride in his eye. “I guess we’ll figure it out.”

“We?” Lion let slip before he could censor himself, surprised by that from Wolf, of all people. Granted, he hardly knew the intricacies of his personality, but it was unexpected, nonetheless.

Wolf glanced his way, unimpressed as he upended the cutting board into the stir fry, chives sizzling in the glaze before Wolf cut the heat completely. “He’s in my unit too, dumbarse.”

“Aw, Wolf called you dumbarse,” Eagle said from the doorway, and Lion felt his heart skip a beat in familiar panic at the unexpected male voice before he quenched the feeling, reminding himself steadily that this was not his childhood home, and his father was not here. “That’s a term of endearment around here— _shit_ , Wolf, I was kidding! Good thing you have shit aim.”

Lion blinked in surprise, almost missing the onion Wolf chucked at Eagle. “I missed on purpose. Evie would kill me if you had a bruised face for your engagement photos.”

Lion had to physically bite back a snort at the way Eagle’s face drained of color. “Congratulations,” Lion offered at the mention of the engagement. He figured that must’ve been what he and Snake were talking about earlier.

“Oh, well, I’m proposing on Christmas, so it hasn’t happened yet, but we’ll see,” Eagle said, fingers fidgeting as he scoured the fridge, ignoring Wolf’s muttered complaint that dinner was literally almost ready. “Thanks, though.”

“You’ll be fine, idiot,” Wolf muttered.

Eagle hummed.

Silence persisted. Lion was almost uncomfortable with the amount of time it did so, and he almost said something about the weather just to get something going before Eagle said, “By the way, Cub nearly lived in your sweatshirt,” with a grin bordering on teasing.

Lion blinked. “Really?”

“God, he only took the damn thing off to wash it,” Wolf chimed in, draining a pot into a huge bowl on the counter, and Lion supposed he’d missed the simmering pot of miso soup in the back, but he wasn’t complaining.

Lion chucked despite himself, pleasant warmth in his chest. He hummed in response when he realized he should give one, almost lost in his thoughts.

He was glad he’d been able to give Alex something comforting even if he hadn’t been here to do it himself, and the thought was refreshing.

Thinking about it, Lion had no idea how Alex had come to mean so much to him.

It wasn’t like Lion was frugal with his emotions. Watching Alex so carefully guard his heart was like looking into a mirror to watch his past self. For a long, long time, Angelica was the only one he could stand, and healing took a long time. Lion had too many experiences in which people left, or ignored, or forgot. He couldn’t count the number of poker buddies who ignored his father’s obvious abuse, the number of teachers who ignored the bruises and the withdrawal, the number of passing adults who could see his skin, see Angelica’s skin, and did nothing.

He remembered once, in high school, for a fleeting moment, he thought someone was on his side when his basketball coach saw the cigarette burns on his shoulders while he was changing out, but Lion would come to find later that he hadn’t done anything. Had asked if Lion was okay, if everything was alright at home, but had never filed a report.

Lion—Daniel—had eventually grown exhausted of the scathing pendulum of hope and disappointment, so he stopped hoping. He stopped hoping for a rescue and started planning for an escape, because at thirteen, it was very easy to realize that no one gave a shit about two random kids in a bad house among the millions of kids in bad houses.

He remembered cutting neighbors’ grass and sweeping and dusting at the local mom and pop grocery store to scrape together some savings, so one day he could give Angelica something more than the shithole they’d grown up in, and he remembered coming home one day to find his father counting the bills he’d stashed in his mattress and thanking Daniel for the booze money. Then he’d broken his nose for hiding it from him.

Lion had never felt as trapped and hopeless as he did in that moment, and that was a turning point for him, when it came to other people—he was viscerally aware of the fact, for the first time since his hope started to wan, that no one cared, and no one would.

He felt that way until he was fourteen and he threw himself into an empty music room to talk himself through a panic attack, coming face to face with a scuffed, forlorn piano, rays of broken sunlight illuminating the dust particles in the air and the obvious disuse of the room.

It became a haven at school, and he liked to mess around on the piano and teach himself simple melodies, until one of the music teachers—Ms. Ackerman, a young teacher with black hair and almond eyes, with a kind smile and endless patience, heard him one day and offered to teach him.

He never told her. He couldn’t stand the disappointment, so he never told her, but he wondered some days if things would’ve been different if he had.

But he didn’t. He learned the piano, which was still one of his favorite things today, and it relieved stress like nothing else. He didn’t have one of his own, but the pastor at his church let him play the church piano after services when no one was around. Still, when he was a kid, a piano could only do so much.

He didn’t know when he’d stopped closing himself off so tightly to others, but he knew it had taken a long, long time, and it was something he was still working on. He’d figured out somewhere along the way that he was something between asexual and demisexual—he really didn’t know which, yet—but he wanted a partner, someone to share his life with, and it had been a painfully fruitless journey, because he just couldn’t make himself open up to someone that completely. It had ruined more than a couple tentative relationships, and Lion was truly scared that this disdain for intimacy and anything other than blood-won trust would never fade.

The was why he valued the platonic relationships in his life so much, even if they took years and years to solidify.

Alex was an enigma, because it had taken precious little time for Lion to realize if anything ever happened to that kid, he’d come undone.

It was just like the all-consuming protectiveness he felt for Angelica, for Tiger and Bear. The sight of their blood made him dizzy before he got a hold of himself, and their pain was his pain, and he truly didn’t understand how Alex had taken so little time to draw that feeling out of whatever box Lion shoved it into.

Maybe it was because Lion saw himself in Alex, a kid far too young to carry the monsters he did, and he knew that no one had been there for him. He knew that was part of it.

Lion supposed the rest of it didn’t matter much, though. He cared about Alex, more than he thought he would, and right now, all that mattered was finding a way to help him through whatever he was facing.

“We couldn’t find him a hoodie at the store, so I gave him one of my old ones,” he responded after a long moment, trying to hone back into the conversation. “It’s huge on him, but it’s the only one I had extra.”

“It’s a dress,” Eagle responded with a grin.

Lion snorted. “Maybe.”

Lion was glad Alex liked it, though.

“They just parked downstairs,” Wolf said with a glance at his phone, sliding the stir fry into a huge dish and setting it on the counter. “Eagle, make yourself useful and get the plates out. Go get your brat,” Wolf threw to Lion.

Lion had to laugh, meandering back to the living room to wait, more than ready to lay eyes on Alex for himself. It had been a shitty mission—nowhere near the worst, but definitely not the best—and it hadn’t been any easier knowing Alex wasn’t with anyone Lion strictly trusted. Though Snake seemed like a good guy. They all did, but Lion was more inclined to trust Snake.

“Alex is on his way up,” Lion threw to Bear, who was texting one of the kids from the youth center about one of his assignments, looking pleased, and Tiger, who was inches away from sleeping. The comment woke him up, though, and he sat up gingerly, a hand on his forehead.

“Stay sitting,” Lion tried, but was promptly ignored.

“I’m fine, seriously,” Tiger said, and Snake tossed Lion a knowing smile. Lion supposed being the medic for Wolf, he had to put up with plenty of stubbornness. “Let’s grab the runt and some food and go so I can sleep.”

Lion was going to say something else, but was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Fox came in first, with an almost pleasant smile and a nod behind him, and there was Alex, lost predictably in his thoughts.

Lion’s first thought was that he was pale—far paler than when he’d left—and he wondered it that was from lack of food or sleep or both. The next was that there were bandages wrapped around his right hand, and Lion assumed they were from when he’d punched the mirror. He was walking with a slight limp, but he looked totally at ease without his crutch, which was a huge improvement in and of itself.

That was the extent of his once over before Bear tackled the kid. “Alex! Aw, mate, we missed you! The mission wasn’t nearly as fun without our double oh seven.”

Lion caught the brief look of panic over Bear’s shoulder before Alex’s mind caught up with his surroundings, and a sun-bright grin stretched over his face, making him seem a lot younger than he actually was. “I thought you weren’t going to be back until later!”

Lion was quick to go forward, pulling Alex in for a careful hug once Bear finally let him go. Fox scooted around us to give us some room, but Lion barely paid him any mind as he felt something tight and tense loosen in his chest. “Yeah, we came back a little early, thought we’d surprise you. You been okay? Any incidents, scuffles, whatever?”

Of course, Lion knew there had been, but he didn’t want Alex to think they’d been going through his business without him. The immediate embarrassment colored his cheeks and he looked away. “Um…”

“I knew it!” Tiger shouted, punching Bear in the bad hard enough to draw a wince from him. “I _knew it_. Bear, you owe me seventy bloody quid, you cheapskate. Alex, what’d you do? Depending on the circumstances, I get more money.”

Well, Lion was glad to see Tiger looked a little livelier, anyways. Lion was surprised to feel Alex lean into his side as he watched Tiger and Bear bicker about the intricacies of their bet, but he wasn’t complaining. He’d been starting to think Alex would never be comfortable with physical contact besides a pat on the shoulder of a ruffle of his hair, so this was good progress.

“Close the bloody door,” Wolf called from the kitchen.

Alex was quick to kick the door shut with his foot, squeezing Lion’s wrist before disentangling himself from his side, still beaming. “I missed you guys.”

“We missed you too,” Lion responded. “I missed having another level head around.”

Tiger rolled his eyes and immediately regretted the action, his eyes pinched in pain as he retreated to the couch. “Prat. We weren’t that bad.”

“Are you okay?” Alex was quick to ask, face immediately falling into a careful mask of shadowed concern. “Bear, you said it wasn’t bad—”

“It’s not,” Bear was quick to assure. “It’s really not. Tiger just hasn’t had any meds in a while and he’s tired. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Alex sent another wide-eyed look towards Tiger, who waved it off. “M’fine, kid. I’m not gonna be pushing up daisies anytime soon.”

Tiger’s natural dismissive attitude seemed to quell some of Alex’s worry, but he was still quick to tell Tiger to lay down, more of less corralling him towards the couch, closely followed by Bear.

Lion went to follow, but Fox stopped him with a significant look, and Lion just noticed the unusually low hunch of the man’s shoulders, the haunt in his eyes.

“Hey Fox,” Lion tried, knowing that despite their differences, he was important to Alex. “Everything okay?”

Fox glanced back at the living room, and was seemingly satisfied with what he saw, because he turned back to Lion and said, “He…talks to you, right? Alex?”

Lion blinked. “Sometimes,” he responded carefully. “He doesn’t talk much to anyone, though. But yeah, he talks to me. Why?”

“Has he told you about someone named Jack?”

Lion thought carefully. “He mentioned her. But he didn’t tell me who she was.”

Fox nodded. “It’s, ah…I think whatever’s making it hard for him to, to be okay…it’s a lot worse than I thought,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “And I saw some shitty things happen to him and around him, so I know it’s probably worse than you guys thought too, and…shit, I don’t know how he’s even _here_.”

Something ugly and frightened stirred in Lion’s chest, and it was a challenge to keep it off his face. Lion didn’t know how to ask what was so bad without asking for a piece of Alex’s past that he didn’t feel comfortable sharing yet, and while he didn’t want to compromise that boundary and Alex’s trust, he didn’t know how else to help him. “What can you tell me?”

If Fox was surprised by the slow, careful way Lion worded his question, he didn’t show it. “That if what happened to him happened to me, I’d be fucked up,” Fox admitted. “He was—I—I don’t know what he wants to share, but…I just wanted to let you know that I think it’s worse than a lot of us thought, and I don’t know if I’m the best person to, um—support him, really, but he seems to trust you—shit, this is not how I wanted this to go…”

He took a deep breath to collect himself, and Lion let him, feeling his eyes narrow at Fox’s obvious unease. “Just…he’s been through something really awful, and I don’t think he ever really dealt with it, on top of all the other awful stuff. So…just so you know.”

Lion nodded slowly, confused and uncertain all at once, angry on Alex’s behalf and upset that he couldn’t do more. And grateful to Fox for letting him know even though they hadn’t seen eye to eye at first, and probably still didn’t. “Thank you. I’ll keep all that in mind.”

Fox nodded, obviously at a loss now that he’d said what he needed to say, and retreated to the kitchen. Lion could hear Wolf’s low voice and was surprised to hear how careful it sounded—he wondered if there was a reason for it.

Lion leaned against the doorframe of the living room and watched Alex laugh as Bear recounted some of the more lighthearted moments from their mission, Tiger chipping in his two cents every now and then, Eagle and Snake listening with half an ear as they cleared the center table to hold plates and glasses.

There was no doubt in his mind that the future was going to be an uphill battle, and there would be challenges and setbacks and pitfalls that would test them all, especially if the people after Alex were as dangerous as he said they were.

Still, he thought as a half-smile curled at his lips, watching Bear animatedly describe something while Tiger dismissively corrected his storytelling and Alex laughed, watching with interest and contentment—his brothers were alright for now. Everyone was unhurt after a long, long few weeks, and that was all he could really ask for.

He remembered the pain and fear of his childhood home, the loneliness of nights sheltering Angelica from the horrors of the street and relatives they couldn’t trust, the bitterness of his inability to allow people to see the broken pieces he tried to hide behind his easy smile.

Now, watching a family of his own—maybe different from most people’s, but still important to him—laugh and smile in safety, no matter how fleeting, he thought that as long as he could salvage moments like this for as long as he could, everything would be alright.

And no matter who he had to fight or convince or face, he would keep his family safe.

He didn’t plan on breaking that promise anytime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi my friends. I’m sorry it’s been a while. Happy two-year and one day anniversary of the beginning of this monster! Real talk: it’s been a shitty few months, tbh, which is why I haven’t been posting. My mental health is in the pits of Tartarus, my 40 hour a week internship and my two additional part time jobs are kicking my ass, and I have yet to be accepted into any grad schools (and I’ve been rejected from two) so my future is bleak and my dream is kind of slowly crumbling before my eyes? Even though I know that’s really dramatic. But. I’m just. Yeah.
> 
> And even through all of that, you guys kept commenting and reviewing not that I needed to update, or hurry up, but that you wished me well and hoped I was okay, and those got me through some tough days, so thank you. Thank you so much for your genuine support of this fic, no matter how irregularly I update, no matter how sporadic the chapters are. I appreciate you all and I’m glad I get to talk to you about something that makes me happy when you comment, so thanks :)
> 
> Hi, depressing rant over. Lion! I love him. He’s my absolute favorite. God I love him. Okay, but I hope you liked his POV!
> 
> Again, thank you all for the kind words and wellwishes, and have an awesome day :)


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